


The Life and Times of Kallian Tabris

by Derae



Series: The Life and Times of Kallian Tabris [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: But she still has weak moments, Character Growth, Depression, F/M, Fake it 'til you make it, Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kalli is was and will always be a sweetie, King Alistair, She also hates Duncan, She also needs time to heal her broken heart, Suicidal Thoughts, Tabris is a Bad Ass, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-11-18 09:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 123,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18117818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derae/pseuds/Derae
Summary: Kallian Tabris, an 18 year old girl who can seemingly do everything and anything is about to get married. She's downright excited. But she could never have imagined how the rest of her life would truly play out. After she loses everything and gains nothing, only her sense of duty keeps her moving. Luckily, she learns that maybe there is more to live for than simply ending the Blight.





	1. Betrothal

A ten-year old girl sat next to an older man as he read to her, teaching her about the history of their people after she had pestered him sufficiently enough. Despite how attentive she was to his every word, however, he could see her eyes flicking back to the door restlessly.

“Patience young one,” he said soothingly, “your Father will be home soon. I promise.”

“But I want him home now!” she pulled her mouth into a pout, “I wanna show him what you taught me!”

He huffed a laugh, “you know how important this journey was for him, and that he wouldn’t leave you unless it was absolutely important.”

“I know Elder,” she drawled out her o’s, “but he should have been home by now. What if something happened to him?”

“He’ll be fine,” he rubbed her head affectionately, “you’ll see.”

He returned to his teachings, Kallian was an endlessly curious child, only ten and yet so smart and capable, all the children had already looked up to her. He smiled as he imagined what she’d be like in the future, a fire-cracker of a woman; strong, beautiful, and seemingly capable of anything, like her Mother, yet calm, kind and dependable like her Father. Of that, he had no doubt.

A knock rapped on the door of his house.

“That’s Daddy’s knock!” her face brightened instantly.

“How can you tell who it is just by the knock?” he asked as he walked over to the door and opened it.

“I just know!” she jumped up and followed him, a wide smile plastered on her face as she ran past him and hugged the leg of her father, “Daddy! Welcome home!”

“Hello, my little girl,” he said picking her up and hugging her, he set her back down and turned to address the other man, “thank you for watching her, Valendrian.”

“It was no trouble old friend,” he smiled, “did everything…?”

“Yes,” he replied with a sad smile before addressing his daughter once again, “Kallian, do you remember your cousin, Shianni?”

She peered around his legs and saw the girl hiding behind him, red hair just like hers, “of course!”

“She’ll be staying with us from now on,” he said giving her a knowing look that she picked up on right away. Sometimes it scared him how perceptive she was, and other times, he was grateful.

“Oooh,” she said and circled around her Father’s legs so that she could address the other girl face to face, before grabbing her hands and giving her the brightest smile she could muster, “I’ll protect you, so don’t worry!”

“I’m not expecting to stay here,” the other girl frowned tearing her hands away from her, “you’ll see. My father will come and get me. I just know it, he’s going to teach me how to be a real elf.”

“Well, I’ll protect you until he comes to get you then!” Kallian said undeterred.

“Valendrian, thank you again,” her Father said, “I think it’s time for us to head home. Help Shianni get settled in.”

“Yeah!” Kallian grinned before pulling Shianni along by the hand, “come on, I’ll show you around our house!”

Shianni grumbled but followed her along anyway.

Later that night, after her father had tucked them both into bed, she awoke to the sound of someone sniffling. She grabbed the stuffed mabari her mother had once given her and climbed down the ladder of the bunk beds, slipping under the covers. She hugged Shianni and held the mabari out to her.

“This is Darrian, he’ll protect you too,” she said decisively.

“Go away,” Shianni pushed both her and her mabari, “I don’t want your stupid toy.”

“It’s going to be okay, you’ll be okay,” she said linking their pinkies together, “I promise.”

*****Eight Years Later*****

****

“Cousin! Uncle Cyrion found you a match,” Shianni burst into the room and hugged her cousin.

“Oh?” Kallian responded disinterestedly, returning to her task of preparing dinner, not bothering to disentangle herself from Shianni as she continued peeling potatoes.

“Yes! His name is Nelaros, he’s coming here from Highever,” Shianni was definitely excited. Perhaps she should hide the alcohol.

“I don’t really know about this whole arranged marriage business,” Kallian frowned and started cutting the potato she was holding into cubes, “also, knife, please watch out.”

“Oh come on Kalli,” Shianni rolled her eyes releasing her, “you know Uncle Cyrion would rather die than see you unhappy. He’ll definitely have found you a good match. Oh this is so exciting!”

“Maybe you should be the one getting married then, Shianni,” the potatoes were thrown into the pot as she moved on to peeling and cutting carrots.

“In due time,” Shianni’s high energy didn’t dwindle even the tiniest amount as she waved her hand around, “also who else would you marry? The men here aren’t good enough for you, and what are we having for dinner?”

“Stew, and Shianni, I’m not that great,” the carrots joined the potatoes and meat in the pot. Onions next.

“Kallian… You really don’t know your own appeal do you?” Shianni stared at her, “you’re one of the best cooks in the entire Alienage, you help Valendrian with teaching the children, in fact, the children practically worship you, you know?”

“They do not, and there’s a lot I still don’t know,” she huffed, “I haven’t even stepped foot outside of Denerim yet, and he’s coming from Highever? I don’t even know much about Highever.”

“Kalli… Don’t worry, Uncle Cyrion wouldn’t pick someone who would make you unhappy,” Shianni repeated, “and even if he did try to hurt you, I’d bet you could take him down. In fact, I’d pay good money to see that.”

“I would rather hope I don’t have to kill my betrothed,” she sighed and poured beef stock and a splash of brandy into the pot, put the lid on, and carefully set it on the fire.

“Oh! I know, you should grow your hair out,” Shianni ignored her, “we’ll make you a flower crown! Just thinking about it is making me excited, it’s going to be so much fun!”

“Do you know when this wedding is even going to take place?” she started washing the utensils she used for cooking.

“In two months,” a deeper voice called out from behind Shianni, “I was rather hoping to be the first one to tell you.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Shianni stick her tongue out at Cyrion, “two months…”

“You can’t stay a child forever,” her Father brushed some hair out of her face and smiled at her, “it’ll be fine. I guarantee you’ll approve of him when you meet him. In fact, here’s a letter he wrote for you.”

She opened the envelope and began reading, fully aware that Shianni was reading it over her shoulder.

And so they began their correspondence. 

The stew that night seemed to taste extra delicious.

They’d write each other every few days, talking about their days, and the things they liked and what-not. She wouldn’t admit it, but Shianni could tell that she was starting to fall in love with him, and she endured her cousin’s teasing about how she seemed to start glowing with happiness. When news of the Blight started to spread, they wrote of their worries and reassurances that it would work itself out, and about the increased business to Nelaros’ family forge. She wrote about how the King had rode out of the capital in the direction of the Ostagar ruins, far away from Denerim, and eventually it was decided that their wedding would be moved up to take place half a month earlier, and that Soris’ betrothed had also been found in Highever.


	2. Prelude

Shianni sat on her bed watching Kallian pace back and forth. Tomorrow would be the first day of her new life and Kallian was wringing her hands on her clothes.

“Relax, Kalli,” Shianni said exasperatedly “it’ll be fine.”

“But Shianni, what do I do?” Kallian’s hands were now pulling on her own hair, “what if I don’t meet his expectations? What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Kalli, don’t be ridiculous,” Shianni stood up and gently pulled her hands from her hair, “and don’t pull on your hair.”

Kallian started to bite her lower lip, “but Shianni—”

“Don’t bite your lips either,” Shianni cut her off, “and it’ll be fine. Stop worrying about the ‘What if’s’ and let’s go to sleep. The bride can’t miss her own wedding by over-sleeping.”

Kallian sighed and rested her head on Shianni’s shoulder.

“Maker’s breath, Kalli,” Shianni sighed and pulled her into bed, “if he says anything mean to you I’ll punch him in the face.”

“Then I’m counting on you,” Kallian settled down, “though preferably not the face, make it somewhere where you can’t see the bruises.”

“Yes, yes,” Shianni rolled her eyes, “now sleep.”

“Fine,” and so she slept.

*******

“Kalli, wake up,” she heard a voice and then felt someone shake her lightly.

“Mrrgph, Shianni, what,” she grumbled.

“You overslept.”

“You waking up before me feels wrong,” she got up and left the room to wash her face.

“Yes, yes,” Shianni rolled her eyes following her, “by the way, he’s here!”

“He is?” excitement sparked in her veins.

“Yes, and he’s handsome,” Shianni sighed dreamily, “weddings are so much fun, I’m so excited for you! I’ll go lay out your dress.”

“Ah, there’s my little girl,” her father’s voice floated over to her from behind, “it’s… the last day I’ll be able to call you that, isn’t it?”

“I hear that no matter what age you are, you’re still your parents babies,” she said grinning at him.

“True true,” he laughed, “I just wish your mother could be here.”

“I do too,” she smiled sadly.

“Cousin, I’m going to go find the other bridesmaids, we’ll do your hair later okay?” Shianni called out from the next room.

“Okay!”

“Alright, go find Soris,” her father pat her on the head, “the sooner we get this over with, the less chance you two have of running away.”

“Haha,” she beamed at him, “I wouldn’t, but you’re right, I wouldn’t put it past Soris to run away.”

“Exactly, now go.”

“Got it,” she said before walking out of the house.

She heard some drunkards singing some weird song by one of the Alienage gates and went to go see, only to find them so drunk they were swaying on their feet.

“Oh look at you,” one of them slurred, “how are you doing?”

“Oh good good,” she said forming a plan in her head, “just, you know, collecting wedding presents.”

“Oh… Oh!” he said panic on his face for a second, “we were going to… going to give you thirty bits!”

“Yeah money spends better,” another said before falling off his feet.

“Oh, but the tradition is forty bits,” she frowned.

“Oh… you’re right! Here’s ten extra bits to make up for it,” he said passing her the money.

“Thank you!” she said turning from them to go look for Soris.

_Hopefully that’ll teach them to get so damned drunk before noon…_

By the vhenadal she saw Nessa and her family packing a wagon, and went to go take a look.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the despondent look on Nessa’s face.

“The human who owns our building is selling it for storage space,” Nessa’s father said.

“We’re headed for the Ostagar ruins, the army is looking for laborers,” Nessa supplied.

“We wanted to look for work in Highever, but that’s just not possible,” her mother said.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“No, we don’t need help from a child,” he said with a stern look, “go enjoy your special day and put us out of your mind.”

“What he means is,” her mother spoke up, “is that that’s very kind of you to offer, but we don’t need the charity of others to get by.”

“I see… Good luck, and may the Maker watch over you,” she said before turning to resume her search for Soris.

“Kallian, wait!” Nessa called out to her as she jogged to catch up to her.

“What’s wrong Nessa?” she said as she stopped to look at her.

“My parents are going to labor at the army camp,” she said with a distressed look while wringing her hands on her clothes, “and they’ll expect me to do the same… It’s just… I don’t like the idea of being around human men who haven’t seen a woman in months!”

She shuddered just thinking about it, there was a reason she dressed like a boy whenever she left the Alienage. Her father may have sheltered her a bit but she was neither blind nor ignorant of the life as an elf.

“Then maybe you should stay…”

“But how?” Nessa said forlornly, “Kallian please help me.”

“I’ll talk to him,” she replied giving her a thumbs up, “don’t worry I’ve got this.”

“Thank you Kallian,” relief bloomed on Nessa’s face, “if it’s you I have no doubt that he’ll change his mind.”

“Of course!” she grinned, “we’re family after all, aren’t we?”

“Uhm… a moment?” she asked Nessa’s parents.

“Don’t you have a wedding to get to?” her father said with a touch of annoyance.

“It’s about Nessa,” she began, “I think she should stay here.”

“I don’t take advice from children, and I’m certainly not about to break up my family,” he frowned.

“Well, the thing is, since I’m getting married today… I’m worried about my father,” she started, “I thought that maybe Nessa could stay with him and put my mind at ease?”

“Hmm… I see,” he said thoughtfully, “he’d shelter her and provide for her?”

“He would,” she nodded.

“Well, what do you think, love?” he asked turning to his wife.

“She’d be among family, and when we’ve made enough we can come back,” her mother replied.

“And you, child?” he said turning to Nessa.

“Your will, Father,” she replied.

“That’s my girl,” he said, “alright, she’ll help us on our way and then come back to stay with your family. Thank your Father for me.”

“Naturally,” she said before running off back home in order to tell her own father and not surprise him with it later.

After managing to convince him to let her stay, he sent her off to continue her quest of finding Soris.

“Kallian,” she heard a voice calling out to her as she walked past, causing her to stop and look at the couple inquisitively.

“Do you remember us?” the older woman asked, “we were friends of your mother’s.”

“Of course! You’re Aunt Dilwyn and Uncle Gethon,” she nodded.

“It means the world to us that you remembered,” Gethon smiled, “we haven’t seen much of you since…”

“…Father really loves her,” she smiled sadly.

“We all did,” Dilwyn replied, “your mother was beautiful, full of life, and a bit wild. Much like you.”

“She wanted you more than anything,” Gethon added, “it’s a shame she wasn’t able to see you all grown up.”

“We just wanted to see you and give you our well wishes,” Dilwyn said.

“Any friend of my mother’s is a friend of mine,” she said.

“We saved a bit of money for this day,” Gethon said as he handed her fifteen silvers, “it’s not much but we wanted you to have it, to help you start your new life.”

“I… thank you,” she replied accepting the money, she didn’t want to walk all over their generosity. Fifteen silvers is a lot and obviously they had been saving this for a while, “I’m honored.”

“Of course,” Dilwyn nodded, “blessings on your day.”

“Kalli!” another voice called out to her as she walked past.

“Taeodor? What’s up?”

“Well, first, blessings on your day,” he said walking up to her, “and secondly: have you seen Soris?”

“I’m looking for him too,”

“Well, when you find him, can you tell him to come by and say hello?”

“Sure,” she said before turning back to her quest. She barely made it three steps before someone bumped into her causing her to stumble, “oof… Anwen… What did I tell you about watching where you’re running?”

“Sorry Aunt Kallian,” he said apologetically.

“Wham! You’re dead,” Shauna said hitting him on the shoulder.

“Not fair!” the boy shouted indignantly.

“What were you two playing now?” she smiled exasperatedly squatting down to talk to them.

“Heroes and Humans!” Shauna replied, “I always win.”

“Because you cheat,” Anwen complained.

“Why don’t you play as elves?” she asked.

“We don’t know any stories about elves,” Shauna said, “do you know any?”

“Of course! Who do you think I am?” she grinned, “it’s about Tathas, the sneaky elven bandit.”

“A bandit doesn’t sound very heroic,” Anwen frowned.

“Oh! But she was very heroic,” she continued, “she stole from rich humans and gave back to her community.”

“Did she ever get caught?” Anwen asked hanging on to her words.

“Indeed, when the humans demanded to know who was stealing from them, she turned herself in to save her friends and family.”

“I’m going to be Tathas!” Shauna said decisively.

“No! Me!” Anwen said.

“Too late! I’m Tathas!” Shauna said running off again “I’m going to steal from you for my family!”

“You can’t, I’m a dragon, and I ate my gold,” Anwen said running off after her.

She chuckled as she ran off on her own quest.

“Soris! Finally!” she said after finally finding her cousin, “I thought I was never going to find you. I kept getting stopped every two paces!”

“Well, if it isn’t my lucky cousin,” Soris said grinning at her, “and of course you were, who do you think you are?”

“Kallian Tabris,” she replied, “just another elf in the alienage.”

Soris’ face deadpanned, “yeah, sure you are. Care to celebrate the our last moments of independence together?”

“Of course,” she laughed, “I take it you’re not looking forward to later today?”

“And you are?” he laughed, “wait, of course you are. Apparently your groom’s a dream come true. My bride sounds like a dying mouse.”

“Looks aren’t everything,” she said punching his shoulder lightly.

“She’s not ugly!” Soris said, “I don’t know… Maybe it’s just nerves… Let’s… Just go and introduce you to your dreamy betrothed before you say I do.”

“Pffft,” she laughed.

“Alms… Alms for the poor?” a disheartened voice rang through the air.

And of course she had to go investigate.

“Ma’am, spare a few coins for a man who was crippled trying to help his family?” he asked.

“Oh, Narlen,” she said plucking two silvers from her coin purse and handing them to him, “of course. How are your legs?”

“The usual…” Narlen replied sadly.

“Do you need more medicine for the pain?” she asked.

“No, I still have some left,” he said, “thank you kindly, for being one of the few people who would care about this crippled man.”

“Cousin, we need to find Shianni and them before Valendrian yells at us.”

“Alright,” she said, “Maker watch over you, Narlen.”

“And you as well,” the man replied, “and blessings on your day, both of you.”

Taeodor stopped them to talk to tell Soris that his brothers left for the Dalish. She and Soris both comforted him and told him that they’d show up in a few days embarrassed and hungry.

She slowed down as she saw Shianni waving at her and took a deep breath.

“Nervous?” Soris asked.

“A bit… What if he doesn’t like me?” she said trying to calm down.

“That’s impossible,” Soris said rolling his eyes.

As they approached Shianni and the rest of the bridesmaids a human came up from behind them, one of them grabbing Nola.

“Get away from me!” she screamed wrenching herself from his grasp and running to hide behind her.

“Grab a wench and have a good time,” a deep voice said and she could feel her flesh prickling, “savor the hunt boys, take this one for instance, so young and vulnerable.”

“Touch me and I’ll gut you, you pig!” Shianni glared at him.

She took a step forward but Soris grabbed her wrist stopping her, “I know what you’re thinking, but maybe we shouldn’t get involved.”

She tore her arm from his grasp, “I’m not going to let them abuse us.”

“Fine, but let’s try to settle this diplomatically?”

“What’s this?” the man said, his eyes on her, “another lovely one come to keep me company?”

“Let’s talk this over, shall we?” she said and another man laughed.

“Maybe we should invite it over for dinner,” he scoffed.

 _…It?…It?!_ She reined in her temper, from his clothes she could tell he was a noble, and the last thing she wanted today, was to induce a panic.

Shianni, on the other hand, snuck over to a bottle, and smashed it over his head.

“Do you have any idea of who this is?” the man stared in shock, “this is Vaughan Kendalls! The Arl of Denerim’s son!”

Shianni looked down at him in disbelief the color fading from her face.

“We won’t mention this if you don’t,” she said with a glare.

“This’ll end badly for you, knife-ears,” the third man remarked as the other two hauled Vaughan off.

“It’ll be okay,” Soris said turning to Shianni, “he won’t tell anyone an elven woman took him down.”

“I… I should go get cleaned up.”

Two elves that she didn’t know walked up to them after Shianni left.

“Is everyone okay?” Soris asked them.

“I think we’re just shaken,” the woman replied.

“Let’s not let this ruin the day,” Soris said and cleared his throat, gesturing to the woman, “this is Valora, my betrothed.”

“Then this must be Nelaros,” she said smiling at the man, “so we finally get to meet face to face.”

“I was really looking forward to finally being able to meet you,” he smiled at her and kissed her fingertips.

“Me too,” she responded truthfully.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“I was until I saw you,” she said as Soris made a face at her.

“We’ll let you two talk,” Soris said gesturing to Valora to follow.

“I’ll spend every waking moment learning to make you happy,” Nelaros said, and warmth and affection bloomed within her chest.

“How was the journey from Highever?”

“Luckily uneventful, the caravan didn’t have many valuables and I think that kept the bandits away.”

“How do you feel about moving to Denerim?”

“It was hard to leave Highever, but Denerim is where you are,” he smiled kindly at her, “and I’ve been looking forward to this day for weeks.”

“Well, things can only get better from here,” she laughed.

“I agree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I don't," said fate.


	3. A Bad Day

“Don’t look now,” Soris said frowning after Nelaros and Valora parted ways from them to go prepare, “it looks like more trouble just walked in.”

“Is it Vaughan?” she asked turning to look towards him.

“No, but he’s armed,” Soris said, “let’s… Just try to settle this peacefully and send him on his way.”

She groaned as she began walking towards him, why did humans have to wander into the Alienage today of all days?

“Good day,” the man said with a slight bow, causing her to raise a brow, “I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she replied, “but could you please move along out of here? I would rather we all don’t experience further unpleasantness.”

“Oh? And what manner of unpleasantness would you be referring to?”

“Look, humans just aren’t welcome here,” she said calmly.

“I’m sorry, but I have no intention of leaving,”

“Maybe we can compromise,” she sighed.

“She keeps her composure, even when facing down an unknown and armed human,” he said thoughtfully, “a true gift, wouldn’t you say Valendrian?”

“I’d say that the world has far more use of those who know how to stay their blades,” Valendrian said as he approached, “but it is good to see you old friend.”

“Elder, you know this man?” Soris asked.

“Yes, this is Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden,” Valendrian replied nodding, “however, that begs the question, what are you doing here?”

“The worst has happened, a Blight has occurred,” Duncan said, “King Cailan summons the Grey Warden’s to Ostagar to fight alongside his armies.”

“I’ve heard the news,” Valendrian said, “but this is rather awkward timing, there is to be a wedding. Two in fact.”

“Yes, by all means, don’t let me get in the way of your celebrations, my concerns can wait for later,” Duncan nodded respectfully.

“For now, treat Duncan as my guest,” Valendrian sighed, “and for the Maker’s sake finish getting ready.”

“On it, Elder!” Shianni said as she grabbed her arm and pulled her along back home.

The next thirty minutes seemed to pass by in a blur, she finished putting her dress on while Nola fussed over her hair. A delicate flower crown was placed on her head. She sucked in a deep breath, held it for ten seconds, and then released it before letting herself be dragged out of the house and onto the platform to join Valora, and Nelaros. Soris walked up onto the platform a small beat after her. They both took their places next to their betroths with Mother Boann following, climbing the stairs onto the platform.

Valendrian stood at the front, giving the ceremony an introduction, before Mother Boann started speaking.

But Mother Boann didn’t even finish her sentence when she saw Vaugnan entered the Alienage with a group of armed guards, and she felt the blood drain from her face. Vaughan and his cronies walked onto the platform, telling his guards who to grab as if he were ordering food at a restaurant. 

“Take me and no one else,” she heard herself saying.

“But then it wouldn’t be much of a party, now would it?” he said before one of his henchmen slammed his hand into the side of her head.

Before she fainted, she could see the scattering petals of her flower crown, just like her hopes.

When she came to, they were in a locked room. Nola was frantically praying, and Shianni was hovering over her worriedly.

“Oh thank the Maker you’ve come too,” Shianni sighed in relief, “we were so worried.”

“Alright, that human is dead,” she snarled angrily, “we’re past the point of diplomacy.”

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your fight,” Shianni said helping her up.

She lightly touched the side of her head and winced, a bump was already starting to form. 

“We’re five unarmed women! What can we do?”

“Maybe… We should just do what they want, go home and forget this ever happened. It’ll be worse if we resist,” Valora said.

“It’ll be worse if we don’t!” Shianni glared at her angrily before sharing a look with her.

She nodded, Valora was clearly not Tabris woman material.

She sighed and looked around the room, it was bare with only a table, a chair, and a small chest of drawers on the opposite wall. She walked over to it and opened the drawers. Empty. Of course.

_Think. Think, think, think, think, think._

If she were alone, she’d probably be able to manage, but Valora, Nola, and Lanah were clearly not fighters, and she knew her own skill was not quite good enough to protect them all barehanded.

“Someone’s coming,” Lanah said.

_Shit. Time’s up._

The doors opened and six armed guards marched in. Nola panicked and screamed for them to stay away from them, and was promptly cut down. Her eyes went wide with shock as the pool of blood began to spread from her body.

_Fuck. There’s no way I can handle six while also protecting the others. Why is this happening? Why? No, don’t cry, you can cry later when you’re alone. Not now._

She steeled herself as she was left alone in the room with two guards.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be perfect gentlemen,” one of them said, “so be a good little wench and stay still.”

“Alright… I’ll be good, promise,” she said with a fearful look, “please… Don’t hurt me.”

“That’s right,” the other guard said approaching her with rope.

Someone cleared their throat from behind them, “uhhhhh….”

_Ah, Soris, that’s actually really surprising._

“Oh, look a little elfling with a stolen sword,” he said as they both turned their backs to her.

She immediately switched her stance as he slid the sword on the ground to her. One of the guards was down before they could even turn back towards her, his back viciously slashed open. The other didn’t have much time to even draw his weapon as his body slid to the ground without its head, and just like that, she had killed her first person. Before them, she’d only taken out rabid dogs, or giant rats in the Alienage, now she was a murderer. The blood from them both covered her in splashes, and Soris knelt down next to Nola.

“I can’t believe they killed her…” he said in disbelief, “they didn’t hurt you did they?”

“No, where did you get the sword?”

“That Grey Warden, Duncan,” Soris said his hands shaking, “he gave Nelaros and me his sword and crossbow, this is all we have.”

“Nelaros is here?” she felt her heart swell.

_He… Really is a good man… I hope… I hope once this is all settled he’ll be able to find someone else to love._

This wasn’t a situation she was going to leave alive. After they return to the Alienage, there was no way guards wouldn’t come and demand to know who killed the Arl’s son, and she had absolutely no intentions of letting anyone else take the fall. Especially not Nelaros. She suddenly remembered the story she had told the children in the Alienage, what seemed like years ago.

_I guess, I’m Tathas now._

“Yes, he’s the reason we’re here. He lost it on those who just wanted to pray for the best,” Soris said, “I didn’t know what to do… But I couldn’t let him go alone. He’s guarding the other end of the hall.”

“You’re here now, and that’s what matters,” she said after grabbing the one of the fallen guards’ sword, “we need to hurry, they still have Shianni and the others.”

“Right!” Soris said as she eyed his crossbow. A ranged weapon would be best for him.

With two swords in her hands she left the room.

After asking the servant if he knew where the others were taken, she ran, tearing through the guards with Soris shooting at them from behind. His aim was pretty shit though, she frowned as a bolt hit the wall next to her. She was a little surprised at how idle thoughts seemed to just flow through her, but she reasoned that it was because she’ll be meeting her end soon, one way or another. She ignored the biting pain of swords piercing her skin as she pressed forward, leaving a trail of blood and gore in her wake.

She burst through a door just in time to see a guard cut Nelaros down, and as his body hit the floor, so too, did the shattered pieces of her heart. In a blind rage she killed the three guards with a ferocity she hadn’t even known she could. As the last guard hit the ground, she heard a rasping breath and held her breath hurriedly kneeling at his side, shaking hands putting pressure on his wound. He shook his head lightly, before pressing something into her hands. Staring in shock as his body went limp she opened her hands to see a ring.

_No, you can’t cry. Not now, you can cry after you’re thrown in the dungeons awaiting execution. Breathe, tears and pain are for later, when everyone’s relatively safe, for when you’re alone._

If she started crying, Soris would lose his nerve, and they’d both die before they could rescue the others. She steeled herself, putting the ring on her ring finger so she wouldn’t lose it. 

“I’m so sorry, Nelaros…” Soris murmured from next to her.

“We have to keep moving,” she said, “we need to get the others before something happens to them too. We can’t let his sacrifice be in vain.” 

She continued her mantra of ‘tears and pain are for later,’ as she leapt from one opponent to the next. Finally she burst into the room with Vaughan, standing over Shianni, blood on her thighs and bruises starting to form on her skin.

And suddenly Soris was pulling her off of Vaughan’s mangled corpse.

“Kalli!” Soris shouted, “Kalli, stop!”

“Kalli…?” she heard Shianni’s broken voice, “please… Don’t leave me… I want to go home… Take me home…”

“Shianni… I…” she said reaching out to her dearest cousin shakily.

“I’ll check the back room for the others,” Soris said.

“It’s okay cousin… Tell me… Did you kill them?” Shianni said grasping her hands, “all of them?”

“Like dogs, Shianni, like dogs,” she nodded fighting back the tears threatening to fall.

“Good… Good,” she helped Shianni to her feet.

“Is… Is she going to be alright?” Valora asked carefully.

“Would you be?!” she shot back.

“Shianni’s strong, she’ll recover,” Valora said.

Shianni’s hand on her wrist stopped her from slapping her.

“We should go, now,” Soris said to defuse the situation.

“Fine,” she said, “Soris leave your weapons behind.”

“What? Why?” he asked shocked.

“Just… Do it,” she said, “please.”

“Alright…” he replied, “I hope you have a plan.”

“Who do you think I am?”

Covered in blood she walked in front of them, back straight, head held high, daggers in her hands, and a threatening snarl on her face made sure that all eyes were immediately drawn to her, and not anyone else.

At the gates to the Alienage she stopped and waited for the others to go inside.

“Soris…” she murmured, “take care of Shianni will you?”

“…What?” she heard him ask from behind her.

“What happened?” Valendrian asked meeting them at the gates.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she replied.

“I… see… Girls, please take Shianni home, she needs rest,” he said to the other women.

“Soris, you go with them,” she said firmly.

“But—”

“Just do it!” she shouted.

“… Okay,” Soris replied and went with Valora, Shianni, and Lanah.

“Just… Tell me one thing,” Valendrian said after they left, “the Arl’s son, is he alive?”

“He didn’t deserve to live,” she replied.

“Maker preserve us…”

“Then the garrison could already be on their way,” Duncan remarked, “you have little time.”

“I know.”

“The guards are here!” someone shouted.

“I seek Valendrian,” the head of the guards said with authority.

“I’m right here, I assume you’re here in response to today’s… disruption?” Valendrian replied.

“Don’t play ignorant with me,” the guard responded, “the arl’s son lies dead in a river of blood that runs through the entire palace. I need names. Now.”

“It was me,” she said immediately with an air of disgust, “he didn’t deserve to live.”

“You really expect me to believe that a single elven woman could massacre trained guards and the arl’s son?” he asked narrowing his eyes.

“We’re not all so helpless,” Valendrian replied.

“I admire your courage, but I do not admire your fate,” the guard said regarding her for a moment, “very well, this elf will wait in the dungeons until the arl returns.”

“A moment if you please,” Duncan said speaking up.

“What is it Grey Warden? The situation is well under control.”

“Be that as it may, I wish to invoke the Right of Conscription,” he said and anger spiked through her veins, “I hereby remove this woman into my custody.”

“What?!” she shouted voice dripping with indignation.

“Oh son of a…” the guard sighed, “fine, I cannot challenge your rights. On one condition: she leaves the city, today.”

After they marched from the Alienage she rounded on him, “why would you do that?!”

“I came looking for a recruit, and I found one,” he said, “you did everything you had to to ensure the success of your mission, we need someone like you.”

“And if I don’t want to become a Warden?!” she glared.

“Would you prefer a swift execution?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Then give your life to the cause,” he said firmly, “say your goodbyes, your life here is over.”

“Kalli…” Soris spoke up timidly walking back to them, “you… You took the blame… All of it… That was your plan?”

“Did you expect anything else?” she asked him trying to reign in her anger.

“I suppose not… You’ve always done what you thought was right,” he sighed before offering her a sad smile, “you’ve always been my hero, and now it’s just official. The others took Shianni to your house… Will you see her before you leave?”

“Of course…” she said quietly, “it’s the least I can do.”

As she walked back home in a daze her thoughts on the Alienage and the safety of it’s inhabitants plagued her. She was angry, she was upset, she knew that people would suffer for her actions, and she was filled with regret.

“Kalli…” she heard her father, as she approached her home, “I… Your mother would have been so proud.”

“I…” words failed her as her father pulled her into a hug, not caring about the blood she was covered in.

“I dreamed of grandchildren and family gatherings,” he admitted softly stroking her head, “I’m sorry… This isn’t helping.”

“I did too, Daddy,” tears starting to fall as she cried into his chest.

“Shh… It’ll be okay,” he said rubbing soothing circles into her back, “if this is the Maker’s plan for you… Then so be it… Shianni’s inside, she’ll want to see you before you go.”

“Of course,” she sniffled as he dried the tears from her eyes.

She took in a deep breath and held it before entering her home. She knew Valora would be in there, and she refused to let that woman see her weak.

She threatened Valora, saying that if she didn’t treat Soris right, she’d kill her, but the idiot took it cheerily before leaving the house.

“…Shianni,” tears started to fall from her eyes.

“Kalli… it’s okay,” Shianni said hugging her tightly, “you did all that you could.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Shianni said, as tears started sliding down her own face, “you’ve always been there for me, but what happened… That’s more than anyone can expect from another person.”

“Shianni… If I’m going to be out there killing things then this hair’s not going to make it easy…” she fought herself to say the words, “can you… Can you cut it for me?”

“Of course,” Shianni said before leaving shortly to find scissors.

She took the ring from her finger and slipped it onto a chain and fastened it securely around her neck, she wiped the blood from her skin and changed her clothes.

“Like your old hairstyle?” Shianni asked.

“Please,” she said rubbing the tears from her face and sitting in a chair.

“…When the world was at its worst, there you were,” Shianni said struggling to keep her voice steady as she began cutting her hair, “fire in your eyes, like a hero out of a story book. I’ll never forget that.”

“I just—”

“Don’t argue with me, Kalli,” she said cutting her off, her hair hadn’t grown out much in the short time she tried to grow it out, and so Shianni finished quickly. She set the scissors down and moved in front of her, pulling her into a tight hug, “I love you, you know that right Kalli?”

“I love you too,” she said hugging her back, tears falling from her eyes again, and this time she didn’t hold them back. They stayed there for a while, crying in each others arms, for what happened, for what they lost, and for what fate had done to them. This was the last time she’d permit herself to cry. She refused to cry in front of Duncan, she refused to cry in front of anyone else.

“Make us proud out there,” Shianni said after the tears stopped flowing.

And with that, she left behind the only life she’d ever known, along with her hopes and dreams.


	4. Arriving at Ostagar

By the time they reached Ostagar, she had a love/hate relationship with the world, except that it was more of a hate relationship than anything. A month. A month of walking, camping, and more walking. She prided herself of being able to adapt quickly, but there were limits. Well… At least her stamina was increasing.

Despite her constant state of exhaustion, she kept thinking back to the day she was forced from her home. The faces of Nola, Shianni, and Nelaros haunted her dreams, and she would continue to let them haunt her. Whenever it kept her up, her hands would find their way to the tips of her hair, and the ring around her neck. Grounding her, in some weird way. The world stopped making sense, so she stopped trying to make sense of it; all that accomplished was a piercing headache.

Idly she wondered if something within her had been irreparably broken. Probably. Most likely. Maybe definitely. Definitely definitely. She didn’t even have her usual day to day life to fall back to anymore, she felt…empty. Like a very important piece of her had died and rotted away, as she stared, either unable or unwilling to do anything about it. Vibrant colors had turned muted and dull, things that used to be fun turned into a hated chore, but she kept herself moving, and continuing forward. What else was there to do? Besides follow Duncan. Ah, she still held anger within her. Hatred. But it was useless to dwell on anger and hatred, and just like that the flames that had once burned brightly within her extinguished themselves once more.

If her past self could see her, she’d probably feel disgusted at this ghost of a person. Not even worthy of being called a shadow of her former self. But this was just her life now. She knew she’d have to snap out of this funk soon, but for now she was content to wallow in it.

As they crossed the bridge, she could see something golden glinting in the sun, a man was standing there waiting for them, dressed in shiny golden armor. He greeted Duncan like a good friend. She heard the word’s “Your Majesty” when Duncan addressed him.

“But come now, I heard from the other Grey Warden’s that you’ve found a promising recruit?” King Cailan said turning to address her, with a friendly smile on his face, “I take it this is she?”

She put the diplomacy skills her father, and Valendrian had taught her to use and gave a bow as she introduced herself with a soft smile, “My name is Kallian Tabris, it’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”

“The Grey Warden’s are desperate to bolster their numbers,” he said pleasantly, “and I for one am more than happy to help them. I see you’re an elf, friend. From where do you hail?”

“The Denerim Alienage, Your Majesty,” she could feel Duncan regarding her in silence. This was the most she’d ever spoken since they’d left Denerim.

“Tell me, how is it there?” he asked, “my guards all but forbid me from going there.”

“I’d… Rather not speak of it,” she smiled sadly.

“One day, I’ll see those walls taken down,” King Cailan said, “your people have suffered enough.”

“I hope that you don’t mind if I hold you to that, then, Your Majesty.”

“Of course,” he said, and she could tell that he meant it, and if so, then he should probably reconsider. The Alienage is just as much of a haven as it is a prison, “allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ostagar. The Wardens will benefit greatly with you in their ranks.”

“You’re too kind, Your Majesty,”

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but I should be returning to my tent,” he said apologetically, “Loghain awaits me to eagerly bore me with his strategies.”

“Your Uncle sends his greetings,” Duncan said as he walked after him, “and reminds you that his forces could be here in less than a week.”

“Ha! Eamon just wants in on the glory,” Cailan said turning back to them, “I’m not even sure this is a real Blight. We’ve won three battles against these monsters so far, and tomorrow should be no different.”

…What? Then why was she even here…?

“I didn’t realize things were going so well,”

“There’s plenty of darkspawn on the field but there’s been no sign of an archdemon,” he said turning his back to them.

Is this what Anwen will be like when he grows up? She frowned at the thought, Maker’s breath she hoped not.

Internally she jolted slightly. She’d spent a month wallowing in self-pity and suddenly her maternal instincts were kicking in? She suddenly remembered her earlier thoughts: the world truly doesn’t make sense to her anymore. As she watched him walk away her facade fell and with it the small traces of emotion that it had brought with it. Ah, now she understood. If she lied enough to the world, she’d be able to lie to herself as well. As her only company for the past month was a man she thoroughly didn’t like, she hadn’t felt the need to put up appearances.

“What the King said is true,” Duncan said gesturing for her to follow.

“Oh?” 

“I know there is an archdemon behind this,” Duncan said as they walked, “but I can’t ask the King to act solely on my feeling.”

“He clearly regards the Warden’s highly,” she could tell he was judging her silently, likely thinking on the difference in her attitude and words from before and now.

“Yet not enough to wait for reinforcements from Orlais,” Duncan said stopping to face her, “the Grey Wardens numbers in Ferelden are too few. So all we can do now is look to Teyrn Loghain to make up the difference, until they arrive. To that end, we must proceed with the Joining ritual right away.”

“Okay. What do I need to do?”

“For now, feel free to explore as you wish,” Duncan said, “all I ask is that for now, you do not leave the camp. When you are ready seek out another Grey Warden by the name of Alistair, and tell him that it’s time to find the other recruits.”

“Understood.”

“You can find me at the Grey Warden camp on the other side of this bridge, should you find the need too,"Duncan sighed, the girl may not like him, but at least she was still willing to work with him, no matter how begrudgingly. 

“Got it.”

Duncan gave her a measured look before leaving.

She looked around after Duncan left.

_Might as well familiarize myself with the area, since anywhere can turn into a battlefield._

She started walking around the area they had just arrived in. She picked some herbs that she saw growing absentmindedly as she wandered the full expanse of the area. When no one was watching, she quickly picked the lock on a chest and swiped its contents while wondering who would store elfroot inside a locked chest. Seeing a closed gate that lead to a large tower and a guard stationed in front, her curiosity caused her to wander over.

“The Tower of Ishal is off limits, the men inside are securing it,” the guard said.

“What is the Tower of Ishal?” she found herself asking.

“I think they used it to watch for Wilders coming out of the forest,” the guard replied patiently.

“Why are there men securing it?”

“They’re securing it on the orders of Teyrn Loghain to be used in the coming battle,” the guard said, “I’m told that they discovered some lower chambers, and they don’t know how far they go, so for now, everyone has to stay out.”

“Lower chambers?”

“I didn’t see anything like that when I was there, but who knows?” 

“Thank you for taking the time to tell me,” she said politely.

“No problem, just standing guard here to keep people out is a bit of a boring job,” he said, “so this was a bit of a welcome distraction.”

“I’d bet,” she said before walking off, waving her hand.

Seeing that she had explored everywhere she had access to on this side of the bridge she moved on to the area where Duncan had said everything important was. She put her hands on the rail of the bridge and looked down, curious to see how far of a drop it was, she had never seen so much land spilling out before her like this, she had never been anywhere like this, and her curiosity and need to know were making her inspect everything. After having her fill of awe at the splendor of the land, she continued on her way across the bridge.

A guard waved her down and greeted her on the other side.

“Hail! You must be the new Grey Warden recruit that Duncan brought,” the guard said.

“Indeed,” she replied.

“This place hasn’t seen such bustle in centuries, I’d wager,” the guard said, “most of your fellows are staying up in the valley, but the recruits seem to be staying up here for now, need a hand getting anywhere?”

“I need to find a Grey Warden named Alistair,” she said, “do you know where he might be?”

“Try heading north, I think he was sent with a message to the mages,” the guard answered.

“What do you know about this place?” she asked, she had never been in ruins, let alone seen them before today.

“Used to be a fortress, the way I understand it,” the guard said, “the side you were just on has the Tower of Ishal, this side’s the King’s Camp, the Circle of Magi, the Chantry… Can’t swing a dead cat without hitting anyone important.” 

“Thanks,” she said before continuing on her way.

_The Circle of Magi, huh? I wonder if I can ask them if they know Flynne, and how she’s doing._

Walking past the Circle of Magi’s encampment, she could tell they were busy. They probably wouldn’t take too kindly for being bothered just so she could ask them about a small elven child.

As she continued on her way, she saw someone standing outside their encampment watching someone give a sermon.

“Sorry if I’m bothering you,” she said, “but are you a mage?”

“Greetings, young lady,” the elder woman replied, “and yes, I am Wynne, one of the mages summoned by the King. You must be Duncan’s new recruit, you must be proud, he is not a man easily impressed.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she replied, “my name is Kallian Tabris, and I was wondering if you knew about an elven child sent to the circle about two years ago, her name is Flynne.”

“Flynne?” Wynne said thoughtfully, “ahh, you must be the one she refers to as Aunt Kalli.”

“Yes!” she said excitedly, “how is she doing? Do you know?”

“She’s doing fine,” Wynne smiled, “she’s got quite the knack for learning, and speaks of you highly.”

“I was there when her magic manifested,” she replied, “she set a rat on fire and scared half the children in the orphanage.”

“She said as much,” Wynne chuckled, “she also said that you were the only one who didn’t treat her differently afterwards.”

“I told her that magic was something that I couldn’t do,” she recalled, “and that she should be proud of it, not resent it. That mages could help people far better than I could.”

“Yes, she has quite the interest in healing magic,” Wynne smiled fondly, “she’ll be happy to know that we crossed paths. Good luck to you on the battlefield, to us all in fact.”

“King Cailan seems confident that this battle will be easy,” she said frowning.

“A King must be seen as confident to all, it affects the soldier’s morale, after all,” Wynne replied, “and we all need to work together to defeat the blight, as sentiment not everyone seems able to grasp. Though he does seem to find his enthusiasm easily. Reminds me of a puppy, and I say that with affection and respect. He is a fine man.”

“Have you faced darkspawn before?” she inquired.

“Stragglers, but not the vast horde the scouts have reported,” Wynne replied, “tell me, what do you know of the connection between the darkspawn and the Fade?”

“Isn’t the Fade where we go when we dream or die?” she said wonderingly, “what does that have to do with darkspawn?”

“At the heart of the Fade, is the Black City,” Wynne said, “the Chantry teaches us, that the Black City was once the seat of the Maker, and that when Tevinter mages sought to usurp this throne, they turned the Golden City black, and were cast down, becoming the first of the darkspawn.”

“Ahhh, I see,” she replied, “they used that as an opportunity to teach people to be careful of their actions, didn’t they?”

“You’re very sharp,” Wynne smiled, “as expected of the one Flynne trusts and looks up to so much.”

“If you have the chance, please tell her I said hello,” she grinned.

“Of course,” Wynne replied, and she wandered away.

As she walked past the quartermaster he called out to her, “You there! Elf! Where is my armor and why are you dressed so preposterously?”

She stared at him for a moment, thoughtfully, before she would have felt annoyed, but now? Now she found herself not really caring, “I have no clue where your armor is, and I’m dressed like this because I’m not a servant.”

“You’re— oh, oh you’re the one who arrived with the Grey Warden,” he stammered.

“I would have thought the armor gave it away,” she said blankly.

“My apologies, there’s just so many elves running around and…,” he was quickly deteriorating into a blabbering mess, a spark of amusement lit up in her chest, “I— please forgive my manners, I’m just a simple quartermaster and n-no one special.”

“Mayhaps, you should treat your servants better?” she mused.

“Y-yes of course you’re very right,” he said regaining himself, “did you perhaps come for some supplies?”

“What kind of wares are you selling?”

“Arms and armor, it’s for the Kings men after all,” he replied, “you and your fellow Grey Wardens can also buy them for a modest price.”

He leaned in closer to her and started whispering, “I also have some… ‘other’ goods, to keep up morale of course, strictly off the record.”

“Oh?” her interest piqued, “let’s see these ‘other’ wares then.”

Looking around he opened a nearby chest for her to peruse. She pointed at the fire bombs, and held up two fingers. He nodded and handed them to her as she paid him. He quickly closed the chest again as she quietly stowed them into her pack and walked away. 

“Hey there,” someone said waving her down, “you’re not what I thought you would be.”

“Did you wave me down just to say that?” she stared at him blankly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said holding his hands up defensively, “I meant no offense, honest. I just didn’t think you’d be an elf. You’re the new recruit right? The name’s Daveth, it’s about bloody time you showed up, I was beginning to think they cooked this ritual up just for our benefit.”

“I see,” she said, she was really getting tired of this whole elf this and elf that business, “I’m Kallian.”

“Do you know anything about this ritual?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“I happened to be sneaking around camp last night, see,” he said, “and I heard a couple of Grey Wardens talking, so I listened in. I’m thinking that they plan to send us into the Wilds.”

“Neat.”

“My home village is near the Wilds, and I grew up on tales about it,” ah, now she understood, he was nervous, “it’s a scary place.”

“I doubt they’d send us into pointless danger,” she replied.

“Then why do they only recruit people who know how to fight?” he asked with a frown, “Or are you their first basket-weaver?”

“I do know how to weave baskets,” she said before gesturing to the daggers on her back, “but yes, I also know how to fight, and what I meant was, if they sent us into the Wilds, it would only be with good reason. Not that they wouldn’t send us in there at all.”

“You’re right,” he replied with a sigh, “since you’re here, I’ll go find Duncan.”

“You do that,” she said as he walked off.

She continued meandering around camp wanting procrastinate on heading over to go to Duncan as much as possible. So she decided to head over to where she heard dogs barking. The mabari did look just like the stuffed mabari she had given Shianni as a child, the memory made her smile as she recalled it. But just as quickly as it had come, it snuffed out as the memories of the day she was forced from the Alienage came back to the front of her mind. She shook her head in an attempt to dislodge her thoughts.

“Hmm… This doesn’t look good, I’d hate to lose such a promising member of the breed,” she heard someone saying.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Are you the new Warden?” he asked turning to her, “I could use some help.”

“I don’t know anything about dogs though?” she said.

“It’s not about what you know, just about what you can do,” he replied, “you see, this hound lost his warrior in the last battle, and swallowed some darkspawn blood. I have some medicine that could help, but I have to muzzle him first. Do you think you could give it a shot?

“I don’t know how to muzzle a dog,” she stared at him blankly.

“It’s quite easy,” he said handing her the muzzle, “I’ll give you instructions as you go, go on, I’ll watch from here.”

“Okay,” she nodded heading into the pen.

The dog looked at her, and she felt a connection form between them as she met his eyes. He backed away and lowered his aggressive stance, and allowed her to put the muzzle on him, with the Kennel Master’s instructions.

“Well done,” he said as she left the pen, “now I can finally treat him. Say, do you think you’ll be heading into the Wilds sometime soon?”

“Possibly,” she replied, “why?”

“I have medicine that can help him,” he said, “but I need a certain flower to make medicine that would increase his odds of surviving.”

“What does it look like, and where does it grow?” she asked.

“It’s white with a blood red center,” he said, “it usually grows on dead wood that collects near the edge of pools, should be plenty at this time of year.”

“If I go into the wilds I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for it,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said, “in the meantime I’ll start treating our poor friend here.”

She nodded and returned to exploring the camp. Idly, she realized that whenever she talked to people, it was the only time in which she could feel some semblance of emotion returning; and when the conversation ended, the fragments of emotion fell away. She wondered how long she’d be like this, or if she’d even return even a little to the way she was before.

“Pssst,” she heard someone interrupt her thoughts, “you there, with the red hair.”

She was the only one with red hair in the vicinity, he was obviously trying to get her attention, so she looked in the direction of the voice she heard, seeing someone in a hanging cage. Raising a brow she headed over.

“I don’t suppose you have a bit of kindness in you,” he asked, and she was reminded of Narlen.

“And if I do?” she replied. It was interesting and a welcome change to have someone try to get her attention by the color of her hair, and not the shape of her ears.

“All I want is food and water,” he said, “they haven’t given me any since they locked me up.”

“I see,” she replied, “but unfortunately I don’t have any on me.”

“The guard there,” he said pointing to the guard standing a few feet away, “he’s still got some dinner, I saw him put it in his coat. If you can get him to give me some food and water, I’ll give you this key I found. It opens that chest by the mages tent.”

“They didn’t take it from you?” she asked a little shocked.

“I swallowed it,” he said as she made a disgusted face.

“Gross,” was her only reply.

“Yeah, well, do you want it or not?” he asked.

“I’ll… see what I can do,” she found herself saying before speaking to the guard.

“You Grey Wardens are lucky,” he grumbled, “you get to ride into the thick of battle, while I’m stuck here watching this deserter. They should have just hung him, put his head on a pike, set an example.”

She didn’t really count herself as lucky, she had never fought in a major battle before. Sure she killed an entire estates worth of guards and an arl’s son, but that was both indoors and they were in small groups. This was an entire open field, with a horde of darkspawn. She’d never even fought darkspawn before, let alone seen one. Her life up until her wedding was spent learning how to be either a wife, a servant, or both. Sure she fought small groups of bandits who were looking for easy prey while on the road, but that was the extent of her fighting experience. To her, the people either looking forward to, or were jealous of those who were partaking in the coming battle made no sense. She honestly didn’t like killing unless she absolutely had to. She had always seen herself as more of a pacifist, and the thought of turning into someone seeking violence and battle scared her.

“He said that he hasn’t been given either food or water,” she said.

“Did he now? Well, no one has sent me anything to feed him with so the only way I have to give him any is if I give him mine,” the guard frowned at her.

“If you were to be hanged,” she said, “surely you’d like to have at least one last meal before you became acquainted with the hangman’s noose.”

“Alright, alright,” the guard sighed after a bit of thought, and handed her his leftover food, “I guess he can stand to have one meal in his belly before he hands. But if anyone asks why he’s burping, I’m going to say it was because of you. So you know.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said accepting the parcel, “and thank you.”

“Don’t know why you’d care,” he said dismissively, “but suit yourself.”

She handed the prisoner the food and water the guard had given her, and he held the key out to her. Frowning, she dug a square of cloth from her pack and held it out for him to drop it in. Then wrapped it up stored it to use for later. Hopefully, after she had a chance to wash it.

Someone else waved her down as she walked past and internally, she rolled her eyes.

“Greetings,” he said, “you must be the third recruit we’ve heard about.”

“Indeed,” she said, “my name is Kallian.”

“I am Ser Jory,” he said, “I’m from Redcliffe, where I served as a knight under Arl Eamon. I wasn’t aware that elves could join the wardens.”

She was getting really tired of people throwing around her race like this, “oh?”

“I meant no offense,” he said quickly, “it’s just that elves aren’t allowed to join the military in most places, and all the wardens in the camp are human.”

"I see," she hated the world.

“I just hope we’re both lucky to join the wardens,” he said, “is it not thrilling to have been able to be given the chance?”

"It sure is," she didn’t agree. She hated it. She absolutely hated it, but she wouldn’t say that.

“I’m just wondering what this whole ritual is about,” he said, “do you know anything about it?”

“Daveth said that we’re probably going to be sent into the Wilds,” she replied.

“I didn’t even know such a thing existed,” he said, “I didn’t think there would be more tests after being recruited. Well, since you’re here, I’ll head back to Duncan.”

“Okay,” she replied. 

_Tests? There were people had to undergo tests to join the Wardens? Well whatever, looks like I’ve explored most of the camp… I guess I’ll go head in the direction that guard had pointed me in to look for Alistair._

She sighed and headed on to the northern side of the camp, since she probably couldn’t afford to procrastinate any longer.


	5. Grey Wardens

She found herself in a rectangular shape of the ruins with a table and a sign that said war council on one side, and a locked chest. She picked the lock and swiped the contents before asking the elven servants if they knew where Alistair was. They expressed jealousy about her being able to join the Grey Wardens and pointed to the other end of the area.

“What is it now? Haven’t you Grey Wardens asked enough of the Circle?” an irritated voice said as she approached.

“I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, she desires your presence,” the other person replied.

_That must be Alistair._

She decided to wait for them to finish their conversation, or argument, or whatever.

“What her Reverence ‘desires’ is of no concern to me,” the mage replied angrily, “I am busy helping the Grey Wardens, by the Kings orders, might I add!”

“Should I have asked her to write a note?” Alistair replied.

“Tell her that I will not be harassed in this manner!” the mage snarled.

“Yes,” Alistair said, “I was harassing you, by delivering a message.”

“Your glib tongue does you no credit,” the mage replied.

_His diplomacy skills could give Shianni a run for her money._

“And here I thought we were getting along so well,” Alistair replied, “I was even going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one.”

“Enough!” the mage shouted, “I will speak to the woman if I must. Out of my way fool.”

Alistair watched as the mage stormed away, suddenly noticing her leaning on the rail, watching their conversation.

“You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together,” he said nodding to her.

“I know exactly what you mean,” she replied.

“We should all join hands, and dance around in circles,” Alistair laughed, “that’ll give the darkspawn something to think about. Wait, I don’t know you do I? I hope you’re not another mage.”

That wasn’t exactly what she meant. What she meant was that generally speaking, people always rallied together and formed temporary alliances if a huge threat appeared and threatened to destroy all of them. But whatever.

“Would that make your day worse?” she asked with a raised brow.

“No, I just want to know my chances of being turned into a toad at any given moment,” he replied.

“I’m surprised that mage from before didn’t turn you into one,” she replied, “but no, I am not a mage.”

“Wait, I do know you,” Alistair said suddenly, “you’re Duncan’s new recruit. The elf from Denerim.”

_Elf this, elf that. Wow, you’re an elf that knows how to fight. Wow, they recruited an elf into the Grey Wardens._

She sighed inwardly. She knew they couldn’t help it, or even notice what they were doing. This was how they were raised, things like this were taught, they weren’t born knowing this discrimination towards elves. So what can you do?

“How does everyone know who I am already?” she asked.

“Duncan sent word, he spoke very highly of you,” he answered, “I’m sorry, I should have recognized you right away.”

“It’s weirder that everyone recognizes me immediately,” she shrugged.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” Alistair said, “My name is Alistair, though you probably knew that already. I am the junior member of the order and will be accompanying you while you prepare for the Joining.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said with a nod, “my name is Kallian Tabris.”

“Right! That was the name,” he said slamming his fist into his palm, “you know it just occurred to me, that there have never been many women in the Wardens… I wonder why that is…”

“You want there to be more women?” she asked raising a brow.

“Would that be so bad? I mean not that I’m some drooling lecher or anything, please stop looking at me like that,” he coughed and quickly changed the subject, “so I’m curious: have you ever encountered darkspawn before?”

“No, I have not,” she replied.

“When I fought my first one, I wasn’t prepared for how monstrous it was,” he said, “can’t say I’m looking forward to encountering another.”

“Then you chose the wrong order to join,” she said.

“Right, well have you met Daveth, and Ser Jory yet?” he asked.

“Yes, they both returned to Duncan,” she nodded.

“Good, whenever you’re ready let’s get back to Duncan,” he said, “I imagine he’s eager to get started.”

“Alright, wait, what was that argument about?” she asked

She should probably at least get to know the people she was to start traveling with.

“With the mage?” he asked.

“Were you in more arguments today that I somehow witnessed?” she raised a brow.

“Oh right, uh,” he said, “I used to be a templar, or a recruit anyway, and so the revered mother sent me to deliver that message, likely as an insult to the mages and he picked up on that right away.”

“Ah, I see,” she replied, “normal politics then.”

“Yes,” he replied, “normal annoying politics. I never would have delivered it but Duncan said we’re all to get along. Apparently not everyone got the same speech.”

“If we’re going to be traveling and fighting together, I could stand to learn more about you,” she said, and it wasn’t a lie; it was always easier to work with people if she knew where they came from and what kind of life they’d lived.

“As I said: I was trained as a templar, until Duncan recruited me about six months ago,” he began, “being a templar was a decision made for me long ago, and Duncan saw I wasn’t happy and figured that my templar training would come in handy against fighting darkspawn. He risked a lot of trouble to recruit me. For some reason, probably not wanting to give anyone to the Wardens, the Grand Cleric didn’t want to let me go. But now, here I stand, a proud Grey Warden.”

_Ah… It’d probably be best if he never learned about my colossal dislike of Duncan then. I guess he does have some good qualities, since everyone seems to have nothing but respect for the man; and I suppose I can respect that. Well, whatever. It doesn’t matter. My pain, my hatred, and my anger are all my own. Others don’t need to know about it, and I certainly don’t feel either the need or desire to speak of it._

“You speak fondly of Duncan,” she noted.

“He was the first person who cared about what I wanted,” he nodded with a fond smile.

_And yet he didn’t care about me and what I wanted. Well, no one needs to know that I’ve suddenly found myself becoming a two-faced liar._

“What do you think about him?” he asked.

“He seems like a kind man, if firm,” she lied easily, deciding to keep her true thoughts and judgments to herself, “well, I look forward to traveling with you then”

“You do huh? That’s a switch,” he raised a brow.

“Well, if nothing else you’ll provide good humor,” she shrugged.

“Right, well, if you have any questions let me know,” he said, “otherwise, lead on!”

“Wait, why am I leading?”

“Er, well I don’t know if there’s anything else you need to get done before we get to Duncan,” he said sheepishly.

“Actually, would you mind telling me about the Grey Wardens?” she asked, if she asked him a lot of questions, she could postpone having to talk to Duncan.

“What would you like to know?” he replied.

“What makes you all so special?”

“The Grey Wardens are warriors without equal,” he explained, “the Blight tried to destroy the world four times over, and each time the Grey Wardens led mankind to victory. No one knows more about darkspawn and how to kill them than the Grey Wardens do.”

“So, what,” she asked, “they’re heroes?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, “they do whatever it takes to defeat a Blight, and that can mean some pretty extreme things.”

_Like letting someones fiance die, letting her cousin be scarred for life, and stopping someone from sacrificing herself for the good of her community. Great. I don’t want to ever be responsible for doing something like that._

“I really know next to nothing about the Grey Wardens,” she mused.

“Well, surely you’ve heard of Weisshaupt Fortress?”

“No, I haven’t,” it was true, she had never heard anything about Grey Wardens. The first she’d learned about them was a month ago.

“It’s a great aerie, carved into the white cliffs far off in the Anderfels,” he explained, “it’s where the Grey Warden’s once kept their griffins. Though they’ve long since died out, and the Grey Wardens number have dwindled since the last Blight. There’s only a handful left in Ferelden, and not much more in other nations.”

“Where are all the Grey Wardens now?”

“The others are camped with the king’s soldiers in the valley. The kings given us a position of honor at the vanguard, despite our small numbers,” he said thoughtfully, “I think King Cailan’s actually excited to ride into battle with us.”

“When I talked to him earlier, he did seem very enthusiastic about it,” she nodded, “What exactly is a Blight anyway? Where do darkspawn even come from?”

“Well the truth of the matter is,” he started, “is that we don’t know where darkspawn come from. As for a Blight… it’s when darkspawn leave the Deep Roads and attack the surface world, at the behest of an archdemon.”

“What is an archdemon?”

“You really don’t know anything about Grey Wardens and Blights huh?” he mused, and irritation sparked in her veins, but she kept it to herself, “an archdemon is an Old God corrupted by the taint of the darkspawn. We don’t know if they’re actually gods or not but if we were to put it simply: they’re large and powerful dragons. We have yet to see the archdemon behind this Blight though, for all we know it could be deep in the Wilds or still underground. But just because it hasn’t shown itself doesn’t mean that it isn’t out there.”

“I imagine it would be hard for a large dragon to find its way to the surface from underground,” she said thoughtfully.

“Indeed, but King Cailan and Teyrn Loghain seem to think that this isn’t a true Blight,” he said, “they think it’s just an unusually large darkspawn raid.”

“Why are they so skeptical?”

“They killed such a large amount of darkspawn during the last Blight,” he replied, “so people just think that they’re gone for good.”

“That’s… kind of an idiotic line of thought,” she said, while wondering how people were so stupid, “how do Wardens defeat Blights anyway?”

“We chop off the snake’s head,” he replied, “it’s the only way. According to texts, the most famous Grey Warden, Garahel, killed the archdemon Andorhal in personal combat at the Battle of Ayesleigh to end the last Blight. Without an archdemon to command them, the darkspawn flee back underground.”

“How do Grey Warden’s even know that this is a Blight anyway?”

“We keep watch,” he replied, “we… feel the darkspawn when they come. You’ll understand after you undergo the Joining, if you… uh I mean when you get through it.”

Somehow she had the feeling the word he was about to say was ‘survive’.

“What is this Joining ritual anyway?”

“There’s not a lot I can say about it,” he replied sheepishly, “we go and collect darkspawn blood, and then you find out what comes after. All I can say is that it’s unpleasant and it’s not something I’d want to undergo again. It scared me out of my wits.”

Ah. The word really was ‘survive’ then.

“So how much will I be participating in this upcoming battle,” this was something she really was concerned about, and not something she was simply asking in procrastination.

“The one tomorrow?” he asked for clarification.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“I’m not sure, actually. The rest of the Wardens will be riding into battle alongside the king. Though I will say that it’s Teyrn Loghain we should be looking to, to win it,” he said honestly, “Cailan just wants his place in history, but the teyrn’s the one planning the strategy. Errr… well… that’s my opinion anyway. As thankful as I am at being given a seat of honor, I know who holds the lid on the pot.”

“Why is it happening here, and what happens if we fail?”

“It’s happening here, because this is the eye of the Blight, it started here, and Ostagar is an excellent defensive position,” he explained, “and if we fail, then Ferelden will fall, and it’ll take an alliance of nations to stop it. Which would be bad.”

“’Bad’?” she raised a brow, “’bad’ seems to be putting it lightly.”

“Right, well,” he said, “we uh… Should start heading over to Duncan. I think we’ve spent enough time on questions.”

“Alright,” she said and they began heading in the direction where Duncan was most likely to be in.

She saw Ser Jory, and Daveth already standing by him, so she took a deep breath in preparation. Since she was in the minority on hating Duncan, she decided to make good use of her diplomacy skills, this would be where her new found status as a two-faced liar would come into play.

“You found Alistair, I see,” Duncan said nodding to Alistair, “good, I’ll assume you are ready to begin preparations. Assuming, of course that you’re quite finished riling up the mages.”

“What can I say?” Alistair said with a shrug, “the Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick her in the army.”

“She forced you to sass the mage did she?” Duncan said chastising him, “we cannot afford to antagonize anyone. We don’t need to give anyone more ammunition against us.”

“You’re right, Duncan,” Alistair sighed, “I apologize.”

“Now then, since you’re all here, we can begin,” Duncan said addressing the rest of them, “you four will be heading into the Kocari Wilds to perform two tasks: the first is to obtain three vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit.”

He handed them three empty glass vials.

“What do we need darkspawn blood for?” Daveth asked accepting his vial.

“For the Joining itself,” Duncan answered, “I’ll explain more once you’ve returned.”

“Surely you could’ve acquired some blood before now,” Ser Jory said.

“Of course,” Duncan replied, “however, you must work together to collect the components. It’s as much a part of the Joining as what comes after.”

Why were her instincts telling her that they’d have to drink it? Before, as she wandered the encampment, she’d heard someone say something along the lines of ‘it’s poisonous, don’t let it get into your system.’ Also, the thought of drinking blood in general was kind of really disgusting.

“Go into the Wilds? That’s dangerous!” Daveth frowned. 

She surmised that he really wasn’t looking forward to it, that he hoped he’d heard wrong.

“You weren’t recruited out of charity,” Duncan informed, “all three of you are skilled and resourceful. Alistair, the most junior member of our order, will accompany you, as is tradition. Do not worry, I doubt you will need to go far into the Wilds to find what you seek.”

“And the second task?” she asked, finally speaking up.

“There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts,” Duncan explained, “it has recently come to attention that some scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them. Alistair, I want you to retrieve these scrolls, if you can.”

“What are they for?” she asked. 

They must be important for them to have to go through the trouble to magically seal them.

“Old treaties, Promises of support made to the Grey Wardens long ago,” Duncan replied, “originally, they were only formalities. With so many having forgotten their commitments to us, I suspect it may be a good idea to have something to remind them with.”

“What if they’re no longer there?” Daveth asked.

“It’s possible the scrolls have been destroyed, or even stolen, though the seal’s magic should have protected them,” he replied, “only a Grey Warden can break such a seal.”

“Why would they leave something so important in a ruin?” Alistair wondered.

“It was assumed we would someday return,” Duncan said, “a great many things were assumed that have not held true.”

“Where would we find this archive?” Ser Jory asked.

“It will be an overgrown ruin by now, but the sealed chest should remain intact,” Duncan explained, “Alistair will guide you to the area you need to search.”

“Three vials of darkspawn blood, and find the archive,” she said, “got it.”

“Watch over your charges, Alistair,” Duncan said turning to Alistair, “return quickly, and safely.”

“We will,” Alistair nodded.

“Then may the Maker watch over your path,” Duncan said, “I will see you when you return.”


	6. Wilds

“Why do you think we need vials of darkspawn blood?” Daveth wondered after they’d entered the Korcari Wilds.

“That’s what I want to know as well,” Ser Jory replied.

“We’re probably going to paint it on our faces, dance around a fire, say a chant and then boom, Grey Wardens,” she lied. 

She had pieced together enough to know that they’d be drinking the blood. But if she said as much they would probably turn pale, vomit, and then run away like some scared twit. Plus, Alistair said something about it being a secret, and probably wouldn’t take kindly to her letting the cat out of the bag. Chances are, they’d either die from it, or survive it and be forever changed. She hoped she fell into the former. She hated the thought that she might have to become someone like Duncan. It made her sick. She should be awaiting death in a dark and dingy dungeon, as punishment for her crime. She should have been made an example of, killed to spare her community from being attacked for her actions. But now she was just antagonizing them, her community would fall into chaos, as humans blamed her and were angry at the fact that she’d escaped punishment. She knew how shock and outrage sparked over the smallest crime, she’d lost her mother to that, after all.

As they made their way into the Wilds, she saw a body laying in the reeds of a pool. They were wearing Chantry robes, which caused her to investigate.

“Is that… necessary…?” Ser Jory said as she began rifling through their pockets.

“No,” she replied, “but they might have family who’d rather know they died than hope and pray for their safe return.”

Finding a letter she quickly skimmed it, before pocketing it. She dusted off her hands and stood up. Ser Jory seemed to start losing his nerve almost immediately, they hadn’t even come across any darkspawn, but the area was littered with the corpses of human soldiers. It was made worse when they came across a dying soldier.

“Who is— Grey Wardens?” he said weakly, “please help, we… the darkspawn, they came from the ground and surrounded us.”

“Well, he’s not nearly as dead as he looks,” Alistair remarked, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Do you want us to take you back to camp?” she asked squatting near him, she began rummaging through her pack. Pulling out a roll of bandages and some health poultice, she started to bandage his wounds, and once she was satisfied with her work she held out her hand and helped him to his feet.

“No… thank you,” he said swaying a little, Alistair grabbed his arm as he helped him find his balance, “I think I can make it back on my own from here.”

After he started heading back towards camp Ser Jory spoke up, stopping his fidgeting.

“Did you hear that?” he asked frantically, “an entire patrol of seasoned men killed by darkspawn!”

“Calm down Ser Jory,” Alistair said trying to soothe him, “we’ll be fine as long as we’re careful.”

“Those men were careful, and they were still overwhelmed!” he said, “how many darkspawn can the four of us take out? A dozen? A hundred? There’s an entire army in the forest!”

“There are darkspawn about,” Alistair said, “but we’re in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde.”

“How do you know that?!” he asked, voice raising a little, “I’m no coward but this is foolish and reckless, we should go back.”

_Maker’s breath… Wasn’t this guy a knight? Aren’t knights supposed to be brave? Or at least have brains? If one person panics, then everyone else will start to panic. The kids at the orphanage are far braver than this dolt._

“Overcoming obstacles like this is part of the test, Ser Jory,” she said softly, in an attempt to calm him, “and we’ll be facing more once we become Wardens anyway, think of this as practice.”

“That’s… true,” he replied, finally finding his nerve again.

“Know this: Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn,” he said, “they won’t be able to ambush us.”

Ah… That just backed up her suspicions. That was more disgusting than accepting a poopy key.

_But maybe it’s just my imagination. It’s probably just my imagination. It must just be my imagination. I want it to be just my imagination. Let’s just say it’s just my imagination._

“Hear that, Ser Knight?” Daveth said, “we might die, but at least we’ll be warned of it first.”

“That’s… reassuring…?” he said unsure of himself.

“That doesn’t mean I’m here to make it easy, however,” Alistair noted, “so let’s get a move on.”

Walking past more corpses she saw a flower growing on a branch, she moved closer to inspect it. 

_White, check. Blood red center, check. Growing on dead wood near the edge of pools, check. This must be it. If I see anymore, I should probably collect them. Who knows, maybe he’ll need more for later._

“Incoming darkspawn,” Alistair called out.

Catching sight of them, Ser Jory and Daveth froze for a second; while she simply leapt into the fray. Her three companions stood for a moment in shock, before joining the fight.

“So… this is what darkspawn look like, huh?” she said squatting on the ground, she poked the face of one of the taller ones, “they look like burn victims. I kinda feel bad.”

“You feel— What?!” Ser Jory stared as she held a hand out, indicating that they should pass their vials over to her.

She pulled the stopper out of her own vial, carefully sliced open one of their fingers, and filled the vial with blood. After the initial shock wore off, Daveth, and Ser Jory found themselves handing the vials over to her.

“It’s considered poor taste to treat the ailing and wounded badly,” she said after standing up.

She could tell the others were staring at her with a measure of shock as she moved to the edge of the water, she rinsed off the blood that had spilled outside of the vials, her hands, and the key she’d gotten from the prisoner. She wrapped the vials in the cloth that the key had been in and stored them in the pouch on her belt.

“But they’re not ailing and wounded!” Daveth said, his voice raising.

“I never said they were,” she replied, “just that they looked like burn victims. If you’d seen someone burned that badly, you’d most definitely agree.”

“How… how do you know how burn victims look?” Alistair asked.

“I’ve lost family to fire before,” she shrugged. 

And it was true. Soris lost his parents when his family’s house caught fire during a riot. Buildings catching fire during riots were rather commonplace, as such, people suffering from burns was also commonplace.

She decided to ignore them and began walking off, picking the flowers the kennel master needed and herbs when she noticed them. She could hear them discussing something behind her, and heard the words ‘she must have nerves of steel’. She could tell that they didn’t understand her, why she was picking flowers and herbs during a time like this, why she wasn’t afraid of darkspawn; but they didn’t ask, and she also didn’t feel like explaining.

They continued on their way fighting darkspawn and rifling through their pockets, to the chagrin of the apparently squeamish Ser Jory, Alistair continued to warn them whenever they drew closer, though his wording and the way he announced it made her wonder if he was saying it this way to make himself sound calm and in control or what but either way she was grateful the more experienced one in the group wasn’t kicking up a panicked fuss. Darkspawn, however, weren’t the only thing lurking in the forest, wolves also attacked them. She continued to pick the flowers the kennel master had mentioned, and other herbs while they explored the Wilds. For some reason she ended up as the leader, and because of that, she wanted to drag out their stay in the Wilds, not looking forward to dealing with Duncan again. So, she procrastinated. And if they had a problem with it, then they could take up the lead anytime they wanted.

Seeing another body in Chantry robes, she rifled through his pockets as well.

“Ahhh… Poor sod, this is that other guys father,” she said scanning the letter she found, “we should find this lock box to send to his wife.”

“But that’ll just take more time!” Ser Jory said indignantly.

_That’s the idea._

“It’s his last will and testament,” she said standing up, “and I would like to fulfill this dead mans request, so that he might have peace as he journeys to the Maker’s side. We should also probably find that cache the other letter mentioned, just in case.”

Ser Jory opened his mouth to say something. But shut it just as quickly, and conceded to her backtracking to find the lock box.

They continued forward, but eventually, the amount of places left to explore began to dwindle, and Ser Jory the Brave’s fidgeting had started to drive her crazy. So they started in the direction that the ruined pillars had begun to lead them.

“Huh… that’s interesting,” she heard herself idly remarking whilst dodging both incoming arrows and sword strikes, “their attacks are getting more sophisticated.”

She began making quick work of the traps that the darkspawn had left them, while the others charged ahead.

“That’s interesting?!” Ser Jory shouted after the fighting had ceased, “you find that interesting?!”

“Collecting information on the enemy is one of the first steps in winning the fight against them,” she replied as she inspected the traps, “though these are rather simple. So we might not have much to worry about. Yet.”

“Hear that Ser Knight?” Daveth joked, “we don’t have much to worry about, yet.”

“I won’t pretend to understand what kind of life you’ve lived, Kallian, but I still think this is a bad idea,” Ser Jory replied, “and that we should return quickly.”

It wasn’t so much of the life she’s lived, so much as it was that she’d simply stopped caring. If she died, then so be it. She was far beyond the point of caring whether she lived or died. Something, she idly remarked, that was a little depressing, given her age. But also expected, given what she’d gone through, little more than a month ago.

“We still need to find the sealed documents,” Alistair interjected calmly, “we can’t go back without looking for them.”

“Haven’t we explored enough?!” Ser Jory said riling himself up.

“Clearly not,” she replied.

“Since the two most experienced in our group are calm, Ser Knight,” Daveth said, “ maybe we should keep calm as well?”

She somehow managed to keep herself from laughing at that. Most experienced? Her fighting experience was roughly a month old, and her worldly experience was slightly less than that.

“I’m beginning to see why Duncan spoke so highly of you,” Alistair said before pointing up ahead, “there, that should be where the documents are.”

“Oh, well, isn’t that just swell,” she replied nonchalantly, “it’s the building surrounded by darkspawn.”

“I still don’t see how this is a laughing matter!” Ser Jory shouted.

“Shhhhh you don’t want them to notice us before we can get in position do you?” she remarked, “we’ll lose our advantage.”

Ser Jory clearly wasn’t having a good day. Which was starting to amuse her to no end. They carefully, though probably not carefully enough for Ser Jory, made their way up the hill, until finally they’d fought their way past the group. The sight that greeted them however, was enough to set Ser Jory’s blood a-boil.

“All that work and the chest has been completely smashed!” he shouted indignantly, “I knew we should have just turned around!”

“We couldn’t’ve known what to expect,” Alistair said in attempt to calm him down, “we didn’t know that we’d find.”

“Well, well, what have we here? A vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?” a voice called out, “or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey? What say you then? Hmm? A scavenger or an intruder?”

“A bit of both, it would seem,” she replied, turning to face the newcomer.

“I have watched your progress for some time, ‘Where do they go?’ I wondered, ‘Why are they here?’” she said walking towards them, “and now you disturb ashes that none have touched for so long. Why is that?”

“Don’t answer her,” Alistair said, “she looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby.”

“Ohh” the woman said throwing her hands up, “you fear barbarians swoop down upon you?”

“Yes,” Alistair replied, “swooping is bad.”

“She’s a Witch of the Wilds, she is,” Daveth said.

“Witch of the Wilds, such idle fancies those legends, have you no minds of your own? ” she said before gesturing to her, “you there. Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine.”

“My name is Kallian Tabris,” she replied inclining her head slightly, “a pleasure to meet you.”

“Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds,” she remarked in surprise, “you may call me Morrigan. Now then, shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here, no longer?”

“’Here no longer?” Alistair said, “you stole them, didn’t you? You’re… some kind of… sneaky witch-thief!”

“How very eloquent,” the two women found themselves saying in unison.

“Those documents are Gery Warden property,” Alistair said with a frown, “and I suggest you return them.”

“I will not,” Morrigan replied, “for ‘twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish; I am not threatened.”

“Then who removed them?” she had a feeling that Morrigan did feel slightly threatened, but she wouldn’t tell anyone. 

“’Twas my mother, in fact.”

“Can you take us to her?” she asked.

“Now there, is a sensible request,” Morrigan replied, “I like you.”

“I’d be careful,” Alistair cautioned, “First it’s ‘I like you,' but then zap! Frog time!”

“She’ll put us all in the pot, she will,” Daveth said, “just you watch.”

“If the pot’s any warmer than this forest,” Ser Jory said, “it’d be a nice change.”

_Oh? Now Ser Jory finds his courage? Interesting._

“Follow me then,” Morrigan said turning to walk away, “if it pleases you.”

And so she followed, not really caring if the others followed after her, or not.

Outside of a hut stood and old woman, whom Morrigan referred to as ‘Mother.' This woman like so many things, was clearly not what she seemed.

“Greetings, Mother, I bring before you four Grey Wardens who—”

“I see them, girl,” the woman said, “mmm… much as I expected.”

“Are we supposed to believe that you were expecting us?” Alistair asked.

“You are required to do nothing,” she replied, “least of all believe. Shut one’s eyes tight, or open one’s arms wide… Either way, one’s a fool!”

“She’s a witch, I tell you!” Daveth said in a harsh whisper, “we shouldn’t be talking to her!”

"Quiet Daveth! If she really is a witch then do you want to make her mad?" she rolled her eyes as Ser Jory reprimanded him.

“There is a smart lad,” the woman said, “sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will.”

The old woman turned her gaze upon her, and she could feel her scrutiny. Whether she wanted her to or not, she could sense that the woman knew more than she would ever let on.

“And what of you? Does your elven mind give you a different viewpoint?” she asked, “what do you believe.”

“I believe…” she said carefully, “that I’m not sure what to believe.”

“A statement that holds far more wisdom than it implies,” the woman nodded, “be always aware… or is it oblivious? I can never remember.”

“Probably some mix of the two,” she found herself saying, “both can be necessary, depending on the situation.”

“So much about you is uncertain… and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!” the woman laughed. 

“So… This is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?” Alistair wondered.

And she wasn’t sure what to make of that. Passing nerves off behind jocularity? Or not sensing what she herself sensed.

“Witch of the Wilds, eh?” the woman laughed, “Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it! Oh, how she dances under the moon.”

“They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother,” Morrigan sighed.

“True, they came for their treaties, yes?” the woman said, “and before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these.”

“You s— oh, you protected them?” Alistair asked.

“And why not?” the woman said handing the documents over to her, “take them to your Grey Wardens, and tell them that this Blight’s threat is greater than they realize!”

“Thank you for both watching them, and returning them,” she nodded.

“Such manners! Always in the last place you look. Like stockings,” she said, “oh, do not mind me. You have what you came for.”

“Time for you to go, then,” Morrigan said.

“Do not be ridiculous girl,” the woman said looking at Morrigan, “these are your guests!”

“Oh, very well. I will show you out of the woods,” Morrigan sighed in resignation, “follow me.”

Once they were close enough to the encampment she thanked Morrigan for showing them the way, and they went their separate ways.

It was nightfall by now, and she went over and gave the kennel master the flowers he’d asked her for. He told her to come back after the battle, and they’d see about imprinting the hound onto her. She nodded and continued on her way, deciding to stop by the chest she had received a key for earlier. Finally not having anything else to procrastinate with, they returned to Duncan.

“So you return from the Wilds,” Duncan said, “have you been successful?”

“Yes, Duncan,” Alistair said as she handed over the documents and blood.

“Good, I’ve had the Circle Mages preparing,” Duncan nodded, “with the blood you retrieved, we can begin the Joining immediately.”

“Are you going to tell us about this ritual now?” Ser Jory asked.

“I will not lie,” Duncan said, “we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree you pay yours now, rather than later.”

She yawned and stretched. She’d already picked up on enough clues, and was surprised that the other two hadn’t yet.

“Is that why it’s so secretive then?” Daveth asked.

“Were such secrecy unnecessary, and all understood the necessity of such sacrifice,” Duncan said, “sadly, that will never be so.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” she yawned again, “I could use a nap. I’ve been traveling and fighting all day.”

“Alistair, take them to the old temple,” Duncan said nodding to Alistair.

“Sleepy…” as they waited, she yawned and stretched again. 

“I don’t see how you can be so calm about this,” Ser Jory frowned.

“Probably because I know what’s going to happen,” she said as she rubbed at her eyes.

“What?! Did someone tell you what was going to happen?” Ser Jory asked before glaring at Alistair, who held his hands up and shook his head wildly.

“No, no,” she said waving her hand around, “there were sufficient enough clues that I pieced it together. It wasn’t that hard.”

“Tell us what’s going to happen!” Ser Jory demanded.

“Nah… you’ll find out soon enough,” she yawned again.

“Are you blubbering again?” Daveth sighed.

“Why all these damned tests?” Ser Jory asked pacing, “have I not earned my place?”

“Clearly, not,” she replied.

“I only know that my wife is in Highever, with a child on the way,” Ser Jory said, “if they had warned me… it just doesn’t seem fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” she said.

“Would you have come if they’d warned you?” Daveth said, “maybe that’s why they don’t. The Wardens do what they must, right?”

“Including sacrificing us?” Ser Jory said.

She fixed a serious look on her face as she decided to tune out of the conversation. She was too tired to deal with Ser Jory. She watched Duncan walk up and place a goblet down on a nearby table.

“So it was,” Duncan explained, “that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood, and mastered their taint.”

“I fucking knew it…” she sighed. 

It wasn’t just her imagination after all.

“We’re… going to drink the blood of those… those creatures?” Ser Jory stammered, before turning to glare at her, “and you knew about it?”

“It’s your fault for not sparing it a thought, not mine,” she frowned.

“As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you,” Duncan nodded, “this is the source of our power, and our victory.”

She sensed a few ritual words coming on so she fixed a serious look back on her face, and tuned out of the conversation. Before long, she saw Daveth drink the blood, and then fall dead, Ser Jory blubbered and unsheathed his blade in defiance, and he was cut down. And then the goblet was passed to her, and she sighed before she drank continuing to ignore Duncan.

When she came to, the sky was far darker than before, and Duncan and Alistair were looking down at her.

“It is finished,” Duncan nodded, “welcome.”

“Two more deaths,” Alistair sighed with a sad look, “in my Joining, only one of us died. But it was… horrible. I’m glad at least one of you made it through.”

“How do you feel?” Duncan asked as she stood up.

“Tired.”

“Did you have dreams?” Alistair asked, “I had terrible dreams after my Joining.”

“Some giant scary dragon thing,” she replied, “I take it that was the archdemon?”

“Indeed,” Duncan nodded, “such dreams come, when you begin to sense the darkspawn, as we all do. That and many other things can be explained in the months to come.”

“Before I forget,” Alistair said moving to the goblet, “there is one last part to your Joining. We take some of that blood and put it in a pendant. To remind ourselves of those who didn’t make it that far.”

He handed her the pendant and she accepted it, storing it in the pouch on her belt.

“Get some rest,” Duncan said turning to her, “in a few hours, I’d like for you to accompany me to a meeting with the king. I’ll have Alistair wake you up when it is time.”

“Got it,” she replied, before walking off in search of a nice place to take a nap.

****

*******

Watching as she walked away, Alistair had no idea what to make of Kallian. Other than that she seemed to be unflappable. Something which astounded him. From her first fight with darkspawn until just a few moments ago, he just couldn’t make sense of her. Well, there’d be time to figure her out later, probably. Well, more time to figure her out anyway.


	7. Battle

“Kallian?” he called out, “Kallian!”

He’d been searching for her for a while now. He’d asked around if anyone knew where she’d gone, and the last elven servant he’d asked had pointed him in this direction. So now he was yelling at trees. Lovely. What a great way to start the day, yelling at trees. Like a mad man.

He heard the rustle of branches, and then the sound of something hitting the ground behind him. Turning around he saw her, rubbing her eyes.

“Alistair?” she said groggily, “what?”

“Duncan said that you need to head to the war council in roughly… oh, I don’t know… an hour, I think?” he replied, “wait a minute… Were you actually sleeping?”

_How could she sleep after the dream she had of the archdemon? After witnessing the deaths of both Daveth and Ser Jory?_

“Yeah,” she said as he watched her walk over to the tree she was just in.

He raised a brow as she gave it a solid kick. 

_Did the Joining do this to her? Who kicks trees? Why would she kick a tree?_

And then he understood as she held out her hand to catch her pack.

“Why were you sleeping in a tree, anyway?” he asked.

“Reasons,” she replied, “is there anywhere near here where I can wash my face?”

“Uhhhh… yeah,” he replied, “it should be somewhere over there.”

“Thanks,” she replied before setting off in the direction he’d pointed in.

Maybe he’d ask Duncan about her later, he shrugged.

***

She had been sleeping in a tree because, much like Nessa, she didn’t like the idea of being surrounded by human soldiers who hadn’t seen a woman in months. It was a safety precaution more than anything. She didn’t care whether she lived or died, but she did care about whether someone would force themselves on her or not.

After washing her face and finding something to eat, she headed to the area where the war council was going to take place. Luckily, she made it there before both the king and teyrn. A servant walked up and laid out a map of the surrounding area on the table and nodded to her, before running off, likely to take care of other errands. With nothing else to do, she looked over it a hand on her chin in thought. Noticing an entourage walking towards her, she quickly put on her diplomacy face and looked up. 

“Loghain, my decision is final, I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault,” Cailan said.

“You risk too much, Cailan,” Loghain said tiredly, “the darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines.”

“Then perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us after all,” Cailan replied as they came to a stop at the table.

“I must repeat my protest to your fool notion,” Loghain said, “that we need the Orlesians to defend ourselves.”

They’d clearly had this argument before. Many, many times before.

“It’s not a ‘fool notion.' Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past,” Cailan said, “and you will remember who is king.”

_Hmm… Not sure if that was the smartest thing to say… But he is king, and what do I know? I’m just a child, a commoner. Ruling isn’t something I have anything to do with._

She decided to check out of the conversation. It was obviously going in circles, so she waited until they addressed her.

“And this is the recruit I met on the road, yesterday? Good afternoon,” Cailan said turning to her, “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty, Your Lordship, and that is very kind of you to say,” she said with a bow. 

She was her father’s daughter just as well as she was her mother’s after all.

“Every Grey Warden is needed now,” Cailan smiled, “you should be honored to join their ranks.”

_Not really._

“Very much so,” she replied.

“Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan,” Loghain said, “we must attend to reality.”

_Ominous._

“Fine,” Cailan yielded, “speak your strategy. The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into our charging lines, and then…?”

“You will alert the tower to light the beacon,” Loghain said as they looked down on the map, “signaling my men, to charge from cover—”

She peered down at it as well, following their plan in her mind.

“To flank the darkspawn, I remember,” Cailan said pointing to the map, “this is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Who shall light this beacon?”

“I have a few men stationed there,” Loghain said standing up straight, “it’s not a dangerous task, but it is vital.”

“Then we should send our best,” Cailan said pushing off of the table, “send Alistair and Kallian to make sure it’s done.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she nodded.

“You rely on these Grey Wardens too much,” Loghain frowned, “is that truly wise?”

“Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain,” Cailan replied, “Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter where they’re from.”

“If I may,” she interjected, “I agree with this decision.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Loghain said turning to her.

“Yesterday, when I had just arrived, I decided that it’d be a smart idea to get acquainted to the area,” she replied, “a guard standing outside the Tower of Ishal had told me that they had found an entrance to lower chambers.”

She pointed to the Tower of Ishal on the map.

“And from what I’ve gathered about darkspawn, they come from the ground. Therefore, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to believe that they may have opened those lower chambers up, vacated the area, and plan to send a forward group,” her fingers traced a line from the Tower to the rest of the encampment, “from there they could infiltrate and take over the camp. They’d succeed in destroying morale, as well as make our forces lose our foothold here, in Ostagar.”

Silence. She wasn't sure if it was a good silence, or a bad silence.

“Very well,” Loghain said, “then this plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens will light the beacon.”

“Understood, Your Lordship,” inwardly she sighed in relief as her pulse slowly returned to normal.

“Thank you, Loghain, and thank you Kallian,” Cailan nodded, “I cannot wait for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!”

“If you’ll excuse us, then, Your Majesty, Your Lordship,” Duncan gave a bow, “we must see to our own preparations.”

She cast a glance up at the sky, it was already evening. 

After walking away from the king and teyrn, Duncan stopped her.

“I want you to hold onto these,” Duncan said handing her the documents they’d retrieved the day before, “just in case.”

She just nodded, and carefully folded them before putting them in her in her pack. Returning to the fire Duncan always apparently stood near, they noticed Alistair already waiting.

“Ah, Alistair, good, we won’t have to go looking for you,” Duncan said, “Kallian, you heard the plan. You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit.”

“What?” Alistair frowned, “I won’t be in the battle?”

“This is by the king’s personal request, Alistair,” Duncan replied calmly, “if the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.”

“So they need two Grey Warden’s standing up there,” Alistair sighed, “holding the torch. Just in case, right?”

“Pretty much,” she nodded.

“From the top of the tower, you’ll overlook the entire valley,” Duncan said, “we will signal you when the time is right. Alistair will know what to look for.”

“Understood,” she replied.

“Duncan…” Alistair said, “may the Maker watch over you.”

“May he watch over us all,” Duncan replied, “you’ll have an hour to accomplish this task. So you must move swiftly. From here, you two are on your own. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title.”

_Not by choice, but whatever._

“Of course,” she said.

Duncan turned to leave, moving to join the rest of the Grey Wardens out on the field.

“Ughh I hope getting to the top of the Tower doesn’t take too long,” she said as they began to run across the bridge, “of course it started raining… oh shit… that’s a lot of darkspawn.”

“We need to hurry,” Alistair said and they started to sprint across the bridge.

“Help me! They’re everywhere!” a guard shouted as he and a mage ran down the ramp, “you— You’re Grey Wardens, the tower, it’s been taken!”

“I fucking knew it…” she grumbled.

“You what?” Alistair stared at her.

“No time, let’s move.”

They cut a non-stop path to the Tower, and she kicked the doors open. Continuing to move she disarmed traps, and used the other three as distraction so that she could move unnoticed across the battlefield. They ran up steps, steps, and more steps, adrenaline pumping as they continued to fight their way to the top.

“Maker’s breath what are these darkspawn doing here?!” Alistair said as they took a second to catch their breaths reaching after reaching a new floor of the tower, “I don’t understand! There wasn’t supposed to be any resistance here!”

“Later. We can think, later,” she said before running forward, “we have to keep moving!”

She side stepped, ducked, and dodged while giving the others as much support as she could. 

_Good thing I have all that practice from watching the kids at the orphanage._

Reaching the upper floors she paused for a second.

“This… doesn’t seem right,” she said, “they’ve clearly been here for a while… shit.”

Well, shit. That was another feeling she got right.

“Do yo—” Alistair turned to her.

“No time keep moving,” she said.

_And I hope I’m wrong._

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh what?!” she froze, staring at the colossal darkspawn whose snack time they seemed to be disturbing.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. I don’t want to be eaten. Hung? Sure. Sliced? Alright. Stabbed? No problem. Eaten? No. I’ll be shat out and it’ll be disgusting._

“The beacon!” she shouted as she secured her daggers to her belt, “throw a fireball at the beacon! Alistair I’m gonna need you to get close and throw lift your shield to the ceiling!”

“What!?” 

“JUST DO IT!” she shouted, as the mage threw a fireball at the beacon.

After Alistair lifted his shield, she sprinted, leapt up using his shield as a stepping stone and grabbed onto the horns on the ogres head. It swatted at her, spinning, trying to dislodge her from its horns. Her white knuckled grip kept her steady, she quickly pulled one of her daggers from her belt, and shoved it into its eye causing it to roar angrily, before it began to fall. She rolled off of its head, and Alistair helped her stand.

“Did we get the beacon?” she asked lifting a hand to her head, trying to steady herself.

“Yes! It’s lit!” the mage shouted.

“So… what was that?” she asked Alistair.

“An ogre,” he said in shock, “and you killed it just like that.”

“Thank you for the assist,” she replied, “I wasn’t sure that was going to work.”

“Yeah… don’t… uh… don’t mention it,” he said, “so… where… uh… where did you learn how to fight?”

“Shit!” the guard shouted interrupting them.

They turned just in time to see a group of darkspawn on the stairs.

She felt the pain of an arrow pierce her, she wouldn’t be able to dodge the rest in time.

_Well, then. I guess this is how I die._

And then her world went black.


	8. Duty

Two weeks.

She’d been drifting in and out of consciousness for two weeks. Morrigan and her mother were doing their best to stabilize her condition. He didn’t know anything about healing, and the both of them were now the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden. He didn’t want to bother them, and so he just prayed that she’d come to soon. His thoughts went back to the Tower, and to what Morrigan and her mother had told him after he’d woken up. This just didn’t feel real. He desperately begged and prayed to the Maker for her to wake up.

If she didn’t… If she didn’t… Then he’d be alone.

And he’d already lost Duncan and the other Grey Wardens.

***

“Nggh…” everything hurt. Why did everything hurt?

“Ahh, your eyes finally open,” a voice said causing her to look around, “Mother shall be pleased.”

“Ugghh… Morrigan…? What?” she said blearily, “I thought I was dead… didn’t expect to wake up alive. Or at all.”

“How does your memory fare?” Morrigan asked, “do you remember Mother’s rescue?”

“She rescued me? From the tower?” she looked around, “wait… where are we?”

“Back in the Wilds,” Morrigan replied, “Mother managed to save you and your friend, though ‘twas a close call. What is important is that you both live.”

“I see…” she sighed, “thank you.”

“I… you are welcome,” Morrigan said, “though ‘twas not I who did most of the work, but Mother. I am no healer.”

“You still helped, and that’s what matters,” she replied, “how long was I out? And what happened, do you know?”

“Two weeks,” Morrigan replied, “the man who was to respond to your signal… quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend… he is not taking it well.”

“I’m guessing the king, the army, and the Grey Wardens are all dead then,” she sighed covering her face with her hands.

“Yes,” Morrigan nodded, “your friend has veered between denial and grief since Mother told him.”

“I don’t blame him, I think to him, the other Grey Wardens were his family,” she said, “are we safe here?”

“We are, for the moment,” Morrigan said, “Mother’s magic keeps the darkspawn away. Once you leave, however, ‘tis uncertain what will happen. The horde has moved on, so you might avoid it.”

“How did she save us, anyway?” she found herself asking.

“Mother turned into a giant bird and plucked the two of you from atop the tower, one in each talon,” Morrigan replied, “though I would have rescued your king. A king is worth a much higher ransom.”

“I would have too,” she replied, “but what can you do?”

“What a sensible attitude,” Morrigan said a little shocked, “Mother is rarely sensible.”

“How’s Alistair?” she asked.

“He is doing fine,” Morrigan replied, “he woke up long before you did. Currently he is outside by the fire, I believe. Mother asked to see you as well, once you awoke. Your things are over there.”

“Alright,” she sighed getting up from the bed, walking over to her pack she redressed herself and secured her armor and weapons to her body, “and thank you again, Morrigan.”

“I shall stay,” Morrigan said, “and make something to eat.”

Food sounded good… but she didn’t want to impose more than she already had, so she took her pack and exited the hut.

“See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden,” Morrigan’s Mother said gesturing to her, “you worry to much, young man.”

“You… You’re alive,” Alistair said in relief, “I thought you were dead for sure.”

“Thanks to Morrigan and her Mother, it would indeed appear as though I am alive,” she replied.

“This doesn’t seem real…” Alistair said, “if it weren’t for Morrigan’s Mother, we’d be dead on top of that tower.”

“Do not talk about me as if I am not present,” Morrigan’s Mother interjected.

“But… you haven’t told us your name,” Alistair said, “what do we call you?”

“Names are pretty, but useless,” the woman replied, “the Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose that will do.”

“The Flemeth? From the legend?” Alistair said in shock, “Daveth was right… you’re the Witch of the Wilds.”

“And what of it? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well, has it not?” Flemeth replied.

“Indeed, thank you for that,” she bowed slightly, “so, why did you save us?”

“We cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we? Someone has to deal with these darkspawn,” Flemeth shrugged, “it has always been the Grey Wardens’ duty to unite the land against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn’t looking?”

“It just doesn’t make any sense!” Alistair said, “why would Teyrn Loghain do something like that?”

“Now that is a good question,” Flemeth said, “men's hearts hold darker shadows than any creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat.”

“Hmm…” she put her hand to her chin in thought. 

She had her suspicions, but at the moment, all it was was conjecture. She didn’t want to cast blame without being sure.

“Well what now then?” she asked.

“Duncan was like a father to me,” Alistair said, “I won’t let his death be in vain.”

“Then we need to find the archdemon,” she shrugged.

“By ourselves? No Grey Warden has ever defeated a Blight without the army of a half dozen nations at his back,” Alistair said, “not to mention, I don’t know how.”

“How to kill the archdemon, or how to raise an army?” Flemeth asked, “it seems to me, that those are two different questions, hmm? Have the Wardens no allies these days?”

“I… I don’t know,” Alistair replied covering his face with his hands, “Duncan said that the Grey Wardens of Orlais had been called… and Arl Eamon would never stand for this, surely.”

_Some of the pieces are falling into place…_

“And Arl Eamon is…?” she asked.

“The arl of Redcliffe, he wasn’t at Ostagar; he still has all his men. And he was Cailan’s uncle. I know him. He’s a good man, respected in the Landsmeet…” Alistair explained, “Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!”

“We also have these,” she said removing the treaties from her pack.

“See? There is a smart lass,” Flemeth said.

“Of course! The treaties!” Alistair exclaimed, “Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages, and other places! They’re obligated to help us during a Blight!”

“They also probably don’t also want to die from the Blight,” she remarked, “we can appeal to them as well as arl Eamon then.”

“I may be old, but it sounds like you can raise an army from those,” Flemeth said.

“So can we do this?” Alistair asked looking at her, “go to Redcliffe and these other places and… build an army?”

“I don’t see why not,” she shrugged, “it’s not like we have any better options. Other than wait to be overwhelmed by the Blight.”

“It’s always been the Grey Wardens’ duty to stand against the Blight,” Alistair nodded, “and right now, we’re the Grey Wardens.”

“So are you set, then?” Flemeth asked, “ready to be Grey Wardens?”

“I guess so,” she replied, “thank you, Flemeth.”

“Now… Before you go,” Flemeth said, “there is yet one more thing I can offer you.”

“The stew is bubbling, Mother dear,” Morrigan said as she left the hut, “shall we have two guests for the eve, or none?”

“The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl,” Flemeth replied, “and you are going to be accompanying them.”

“Such a sh— What?” Morrigan said in shock.

“You heard me, girl,” Flemeth laughed, “and the last time I looked, you had ears.”

“Thank you, but if she doesn’t want to…” she found herself saying.

“Her magic will be useful,” Flemeth said turning to them, “even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get past the horde.”

“Have I no say in this?” Morrigan asked angrily.

“You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years,” Flemeth said turning back to her, “here is your chance. As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives.”

That didn't make sense. But she suspected that it would in time. Probably.

“Not to… look a gift horse in the mouth or anything…” Alistair said, “but won’t this add to our problems? Outside the Wilds, she’s an apostate.”

“Pardon me, but I was under the impression that you two needed all the help you can get,” Flemeth said, “and if you do not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on that tower.”

“Point. Taken,” Alistair conceded.

“Mother… This is not how I wanted this,” Morrigan said uncertainly, “I am not even ready—”

“You must be ready,” Flemeth said, “alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. Without you they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I.”

“I… understand…” Morrigan sighed.

“And you, Wardens? Do you understand?” Flemmeth turned to them, “I give you that which I value above all in this world. I do this because you must succeed.”

“Yes,” she replied, “I understand.”

“I do too,” Alistair said, “I guess.”

“Allow me to get my things, if you please,” Morrigan said before returning to the hut.

“Do you really want to take her along just because her mother says so?” Alistair said looking at her.

“I certainly can’t navigate the Wilds, and the thought of running into a group of darkspawn with just the two of us isn’t a good one,” she replied, “we’d die before we could even make it out of the Wilds. Also, we’re two people, against the world. Basically.”

“Alright, I guess you’re right,” he sighed, “the Grey Wardens have always taken allies where they could find them.”

“I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens,” Morrigan sighed after exiting the hut with her own pack, “I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. ‘Tis not far and you will find much you need there. Or, if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours.”

“I’d rather you spoke your mind,”

“Dear, sweet mother, you are so kind to cast me out like this,” Morrigan said, “how fondly I shall remember this moment.”

“Well, I always said,” Flemeth laughed, “if you want something done, do it yourself. Or hear about it for a decade or two afterwords.”

“Are you truly okay with this?” she asked.

“What I want,” Morrigan said, “is to see mountains. I wish to witness the ocean and step into its waters. I want to experience a city rather than see it in my mind. So, yes, this is what I want. Actually leaving, however, is harder than I thought. Perhaps Mother is right, it must simply be done quickly.”

Her thoughts immediately went back to the day she was forced from the only life she’d ever known. 

“How are we going to get past the darkspawn?” she said keeping her expression and voice from wavering.

“The real question,” Morrigan replied, “is how we are going to get your friend past the darkspawn, is it not?”

“That’s true,” Alistair said, “you haven’t been a Warden for long, so you probably can’t sense them yet, but since we can sense them, conversely they can sense us.

Her fist slammed into her palm in realization.

“Of course! That’s why they were at the Tower!” she exclaimed, “they could sense that the largest concentration of Grey Wardens were at the battlefield. Thus, they infiltrated the Tower so that they could trap us in a pincer!”

“It… it does make sense!” Alistair stared at her in shock. 

“I was right to save the two of you, it seems,” Flemeth laughed.

“Mother gave me something else, for the darkspawn to ‘smell’,” Morrigan said.

“Can you cook?” Alistair blurted out.

“I can cook… yes,” Morrigan frowned.

“We can take turns,” she sighed.

“You missed your chance,” Alistair said, “now it’s charred rabbit from here on out.”

“I can cook too,” she frowned.

“Farewell, Mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire,” Morrigan reminded her.

“Do try to have fun, dear,” Flemeth said to Morrigan.

“Thank you again, Flemeth,” she said.

“You are welcome,” Flemeth replied, “and do not forget: you must succeed.”

And so they left to journey out of the Wilds.

“It will take about a week,” Morrigan said, “to reach Lothering.”

_I guess I’ll have to learn how to hunt…_

***

His thoughts kept going back to Duncan, and how he felt. How he should have been on the battlefield together with him. But then he remembered: Kallian knew next to nothing about being a Grey Warden. Sure she seemed both a capable leader, and a quick learner. But on her own? She’d have no idea what to do. So, he consoled himself with that thought.

***

Kallian, is clearly the smarter of the two, she found herself thinking, she was certainly more resourceful and practical than Alistair.

Though the man had been mostly keeping to himself. Something she was most grateful for. She was not in the mood to deal with him, nor did she truly want to.

***

_Guess I’ll have to put off dying…_

Thoughts of Nelaros, Shianni, Nola, and her community never truly left her mind. So, she pushed herself forward, until her duty was done: she could not die.

The sound of barking interrupted her thoughts, and the mabari she had aided before the battle of Ostagar ran towards her. Bringing with him a group of darkspawn.

***

She stared in dismay at Kallian as she pet the mangy mutt that’d just brought them problems. That they had just finished dealing with.

Apparently, the woman had decided to bring him along. Despite her own protests.

She sighed as she acknowledged that that the mutt was now named Darrian


	9. Lothering

They’d only taken about five days to get to the Imperial Highway. Darrian helped make their journey faster. He was both a keen hunter and a skilled fighter. Also a comfort to hug.

Morrigan was pretty good at cooking too, which was helpful, Alistair’s cooking was… interesting…?

Though Alistair had been quiet their entire journey so far. He was most likely still processing the emotional shock of losing his father figure and the rest of the Grey Wardens that he was probably close with.

That didn’t bother her, she herself hated Duncan, but she could respect the fact that Alistair saw in him a father figure. And in any case, she was still processing her own emotional shock, though it was in the back of her mind: this was not the time to have an emotional breakdown.

“There,” Morrigan said pointing towards a village off to the side of the highway, “that is Lothering.”

“Wake up, gentlemen!” one of them said as they noticed their arrival, “more travelers to attend to. Lead by an elf, of all things.”

“Err…They don’t look much like them others, you know,” one said, “uhmm…maybe we should just let these ones pass…”

“Nonsense! Greetings, travelers!” their leader said.

“Highwaymen,” Alistair angrily whispered, “preying on those feeling the darkspawn, I suppose.”

“They are fools to get in our way,” Morrigan said, “I say teach them a lesson.”

“So you're toll collectors?” she asked looking around.

“Indeed! For the upkeep of the Imperial Highway!” he replied, “it’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, it is rather messy," her gaze flicked over to the side where she saw a dead man wearing armor.

“For ten silvers you can pass through safely,” the man said.

“It’s not really a toll, see,” the slow speaker said, “we’re just robbing you.”

“You can certainly try,” she said lunging towards the man with her daggers drawn.

Working together, they made quick work of the highwaymen. 

“Hand over everything you stole,” keeping their leader alive she addressed him with a sharpened gaze. 

“Yes! Yes! Immediately! Here’s it’s just a little over one hundred silvers,” he said handing the coin over.

“This… this is… I think it’s one of Arl Eamons!” Alistair said inspecting the corpse.

“Thought as much,” she remarked, “you lot die here.”

“Well, now, that is certainly a lesson that they will never be able to forget,” Morrigan said with approval.

She helped Alistair rifle through the mans pockets. Finding a letter she quickly skimmed it and handed it over to Alistair, who had found a locket.

“We’ll hold on to these for now, hopefully we’ll have the chance to return them to someone important to him.”

After dealing with the bandits they began descending the ramp to Lothering.

“Well, there it is, Lothering,” Alistair said as if a bit more relaxed, “as pretty as a painting.”

“Ah. So you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you?” Morrigan said, “falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?”

The way these two bickered, it was almost like they were siblings. But since they’d both be angry with her if she said as much, she decided to keep that thought to herself.

“Is my being upset so hard to understand?” Alistair said indignantly, “have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?”

“Before or after I stopped laughing?” Morrigan asked.

“Right,” Alistair sighed, “very creepy, forget I asked."

“It is rather hard to move on, after you’ve lost so much,” she said remembering the past two months of her life, “how are you holding up?”

“I was just thinking…” Alistair said.

“No wonder it took so long then,” Morrigan said.

“Oh, I get it,” Alistair said, “this is the part where we’re shocked to discover how you’ve never had a friend your entire life.”

“I can be friendly when I desire to,” Morrigan replied.

“It’s true, she can,” she interjected, “Morrigan has been a great help this entire time.”

“See?” Morrigan said triumphantly, “alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so.”

“He can read books for that,” she replied.

“ANYWAY!” Alistair shouted trying to get the conversation back on track, “I thought we should talk about where we intend to go, first.”

“Do you have any opinions, Alistair?” she asked.

“This should be good,” Morrigan said as she leaned back against the rail of the ramp.

“I think what Flemeth suggested is the best idea,” Alistair said, “the treaties you have… have you looked at them?”

“No, I’ve been holding on to them for the past five days and never thought to read a single letter,” she said monotonously, “of course I read them.”

“Alright, alright, stop looking at me like that!” Alistair said shrinking back.

“So what about them?” she asked. 

She knew where he was going with this, but he’d never learn if he didn’t figure things out on his own.

“Well, I still think Arl Eamon is our best bet for help, we might even want to go to him first,” Alistair replied, “but do you need directions to get to anywhere?”

“I would like a map… Do you think they’ll have one for sale here?” she said, “verbally getting directions is fine and all but… I’d like a physical map of Ferelden. So let’s wait off on that for a bit.”

“Morrigan, do you have any thoughts on this?” she asked.

“Go after your enemy directly. Find this man Loghain and kill him,” Morrigan said, “the rest of this business with the treaties can then be done in safety.”

“Yes, he certainly wouldn’t see that coming! And it’s not like he has the advantage of an army, and experience, and—” Alistair ranted before being stopped by Morrigan.

“I was asked for my opinion and I gave it,” Morrigan glared.

“I wish it were that easy… if it were then…” she sighed, “I’d do that too but, I am no assassin. I can’t sneak around like that.”

_Also I’m pretty sure half of Denerim knows my face. And it’d be bad to fail in my duty so fast. Though… I would like to see how the Alienage is doing…_

“So why is this being left up to me?” she said turning to Alistair.

“Well I don’t know where to go, Arl Eamon is a good man, but I don’t know for sure he’s where we should go,” Alistair replied, “so I’m leaving it up to you. I’m not going to fight about it. I’ll go wherever you decide.”

“Well that seems unsurprising,” Morrigan remarked.

Causing Alistair to glare.

“Let’s head into the village, grab some information, and hopefully a map,” she said, “and supplies.”

After they headed into the village they were stopped by a templar who told them that the village was lost, there were too many refugees, and too little food. Thanking the man they continued on wards.

“Don’t you just love how the Blight seems to bring out the best in people?” Alistair joked as they watched an interaction between a Chantry sister and an angry merchant.

But it was sad rather than funny. She decided to settle the dispute peacefully, and had him sell to everyone else at a discount while they paid full price, so she decided to unload all the useless junk she'd picked up onto the man and walked away five sovereigns richer.

“The Chanters are still operating that board… now that’s dedication,” Alistair said.

“Ah yes the Chantry board, let us do quests for the betterment of mankind,” Morrigan said, “as well as a few coppers.”

“Might as well do some of these requests…” she sighed moving closer, “armor, and weapon upkeep isn’t going to be cheap. Neither is food and water.”

She accepted the quest, kill bandits, easy enough. Throwing a glance at the Chanter she moved closer to Morrigan and Alistair.

“I’ll bet, I can get that Chanter to say something not related to the chant,” she whispered.

“You’re on,” Alistair said, “five bits says you can’t”

“’Twould be most amusing if you could,” Morrigan said thinking, “very well, five coppers say that you will not be able to.”

They watched as she arranged a completely curious look on her face and walked up to the Chanter.

“And who are you exactly?” she asked.

The Chanter just smiled and laughed.

“Do you really think she’ll be able to do it?” Alistair whispered to Morrigan.

“I do not know, and you are distracting me,” Morrigan whispered back.

“Hello? I asked you a question?” she said with a pout.

“He can’t answer you,” the boy standing next to him said, “he’s Chanter Devons.”

“What… is a Chanter?” she asked tilting her head in confusion.

“It’s one of thems that can only speak the Chant of Light,” the boy supplied, “that board he’s standing near has good deeds that need doing.”

“So… like a vow of silence?” she said curiously, “he can’t speak normally?”

“Unless it’s the chant of light?” the boy said, “no.”

“I see…” she said in contemplation, “a Chanter says what!”

“What?” the Chanter said and then stumbled to find a verse to complete it.

She walked back to Alistair and Morrigan snickering, "...child's play."

“Maker’s breath, Kallian,” Alistair said handing her five bits, “I feel bad for that Chanter now.”

“I do not,” Morrigan said with a slight smile, “five bits, yes? Here you are.”

“Mother?! Where are you?!” a child’s voice cried out.

She immediately made a beeline to the child and squatted down in front of him.

“Have you seen my Mother?” he asked.

“What happened?” she asked, “how did you get separated?”

“Some mean men with some swords came, and Mother told me to run to the village as fast as I could so I did,” the boy said, “she said she’d be right behind me but I’ve been waiting, and waiting and I can’t see her.”

“Do you know where your father is?” she asked.

“He went to the neighbors yesterday with William,” the boy supplied, “but he didn’t come back.”

“I see…” she said, “go to the Chantry, child, they’ll look after you.”

“I will, but only if Mother doesn’t come back,” the boy said, “say… are you really an elf?”

“The ears gave me away huh?” she grinned.

“Father said that all elves are mean, and to stay away from them,” the boy said, “but you’re nicer than everyone here. Thank you for helping me.” 

“That last comment did not anger you, I see,” Morrigan said to her after she stood up.

“Kids don’t know better,” she replied, “they only know what they are taught. I can’t blame the child for what their parents teach them.”

“An excellent observation,” Morrigan nodded.

And so they did some small tasks around Lothering deciding to hit the tavern before going after the bandits

“Well, look what we have here, men,” a voice sounded out right as they walked in, “I think we’ve been blessed.”

“Uh-oh. Loghain’s men,” Alistair said, “this can’t be good.”

“Didn’t we spend all morning asking about an elf by this very description?” one of the men said, “and everyone said they hadn’t seen one?”

“It seems we were lied to,” the man said.

“Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble,” a Sister said walking in between them, “these are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge.”

“Are you sure they’re talking about me?” she said tilting her head to the side, “I haven’t even done anything, though?”

“Don’t let the act fool you, they’re more than that,” the man growled, “now stay out of our way, Sister. You protect these traitors, you’ll get the same as them.”

_Like being a person who basically single-handedly killed an estates worth of guards and an arl’s son, I mean sure, Soris helped. But his aim with a crossbow is terrible._

“How am I a traitor?” she asked.

“Teyrn Loghain claims the Grey Wardens betrayed the king, or haven’t you heard?” the Sister replied.

“But I’m not a Grey Warden?” she said, “I don’t think they let elves into the Wardens, do they?”

Currently she was happy that Alistair was keeping his mouth shut.

“Enough talk,” the man said, “take the Warden into custody. Kill the sister and anyone else that gets in our way.”

“Why me? Why am I the indicator?” she grumbled as a fight broke out, “Alistair, why are YOU not the indicator?”

“Can’t argue right now,” Alistair yelled, “kind of fighting.”

She clicked her tongue and threw herself into the fight.

“Alright! You’ve won, we surrender,” the man said quickly sheathing his weapon.

“Good,” the sister said after everything was set and done, “they’ve learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting.”

“Go apologize to everyone whose dinner you ruined, and clean this place up,” she glared, “have your parents taught you no manners?”

“Yes Ma’am! Right away Ma’am!” the men shouted before moving into action.

“And I expect you to pay for all the meals you ruined as well,” she said sternly.

“Of course Ma’am!” they said before continuing to follow her orders.

“Maker’s breath Kallian…” Alistair said in shock.

“You are indeed quite the formidable woman,” Morrigan mused.

“Ahh… before I forget,” she said finally, “tell Loghain that he’ll pay for this.”

“Yes Ma’am!” they said before scurrying out of the tavern.

“Maker’s breath Kallian,” Alistair repeated, “how did you do that.”

“It’s a tactic I learned from helping out at the orphanage,” she frowned.

“I… I see,” Alistair said.

“Please forgive me for interrupting,” the Sister said, “but I couldn’t just sit by and not help.”

“It was appreciated none-the-less,” she smiled, “where’d you learn how to fight like that?”

“I wasn’t born in the Chantry, you know,” she explained, “many of us had more… colorful lives before we joined.”

“I see,” she said.

“Let me introduce myself, I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering,” Leliana said, “or I was.”

“My name is Kallian Tabris, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replied.

“They said you were a Grey Warden,” Leliana said, “I’m surprised you’re an elf, but elves must want the Blight defeated as much as humans, no?”

_Back to this whole elf bullshit. Also I’m still not a Grey Warden by choice; though I’d rather die than tell anyone that right now. Especially Alistair._

“I know after what happened, you’ll need all the help you can get,” Leliana said, “that’s why I’m coming along.”

“But, I said it before the fight?” she tilted her head to the side, “I’m not a Grey Warden?”

“But… oh, I see. Of course,” Leliana smiled, “shall we move on, my completely, ordinary, and unremarkable friend?”

“Why do you want to come with us?” she asked.

“The Maker told me to,” Leliana replied.

“I see… can you elaborate?” she asked.

“I… I know that sounds absolutely insane,” Leliana panicked, “but it’s true! I had a dream, a vision!”

“More crazy?” Alistair remarked, “I thought we were all full up.”

“Look at the people here, they are lost in their despair, and this darkness, this chaos… will spread. The Maker doesn’t want this,” Leliana said gesturing to them, “what you do, what you are meant to do, is the Maker’s work! Let me help!”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” she said.

“Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than Mother thought…” Morrigan mused.

“Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I will not let you down!” Leliana smiled.

“I’m pretty hard to disappoint so,” she smiled, “just do your best.”


	10. Prisoner

Behind her she heard Leliana and Morrigan argue about religion. Always a touchy topic. So both she and Alistair kept quiet.

Finally ready to leave the village proper and take care of pesky bandits, she heard someone chanting. It was in a language that she herself had never heard before, and her curiosity dictated that she take a closer look.

Another prisoner. She’s been helping a lot of prisoners lately. Idly she wondered about the fate of the first caged prisoner she’d helped.

“You aren’t one of my captors,” the man said, “I have nothing to say that would amuse you, elf. Leave me in peace.”

“What are you?” she asked taking in his height.

“A prisoner,” he replied, “I’m in a cage, am I not? I’ve been placed here by the Chantry.”

_Well, no shit. Wasn’t what I meant but whatever._

“The revered mother said he slaughtered an entire family,” Leliana supplied, “even the children.”

_I wonder what’s worse… Killing the guard dogs of an estate or killing children…_

“It is as she said,” he replied, “I am Sten of the Beresaad —the vanguard— of the qunari peoples.”

“I am Kallian,” she nodded, “pleased to meet you.”

“You mock me,” Sten raised a brow at her, “or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands.”

“I was raised to mind my manners,” she replied, “no matter who I’m speaking to.”

“Even so,” Sten said, “though it matters little. I will die soon enough.”

“This is a proud and powerful creature, trapped as prey for the darkspawn,” Morrigan said, “if you cannot see a use for him, I suggest releasing him for mercy’s sake alone.”

“Person,” she corrected with a frown, “he’s a person. Not a creature.”

“Forgive me then, Sten,” Morrigan relented.

“Mercy? I wouldn’t have expected that from you,” Alistair blurted out.

“I would also suggest that Alistair take his place in the cage,” Morrigan said.

“Now that’s what I would have expected,” Alistair replied.

_It’s like I’m back in the orphanage… Teaching children to mind their manners and to stop pulling each others hair._

“I suggest you leave me to my fate,” Sten said.

“So, why are you in the cage?” she asked.

“I have been convicted of murder,” he replied, “have the villagers not spoken of this?”

“Not that I’ve heard,” she replied, and it was true. She’d heard nothing of this until a few minutes ago.

“Are you interested in seeking atonement?” she asked.

“Death will be my atonement,” he replied.

“I see…” she said, “there are other ways for you to redeem yourself, if you’re interested.”

“Perhaps,” Sten replied, “what does your wisdom say is equal to my crime?”

“You could help me defend the land against the Blight,” she replied, “and by doing so, you’d be helping me save far more people than the ones from the crime you’ve been convicted of.”

“The Blight?” Sten asked in shock, “are you a Grey Warden then?”

“Yes,” she replied while pointing at Alistair, “both Alistair and I are Grey Wardens”

“My people have heard legends of the Grey Warden’s strength and skill,” Sten replied, “though I suppose not every legend is true.”

“We can’t all be ten feet tall and intimidating,” she replied wryly, “and currently, you’re judging us by appearance, and not our actions.”

“You have a point,” Sten replied with a sigh.

“Would the revered mother let you free?” she asked, “helping stop the Blight serves a far better purpose than waiting for the darkspawn to decide your fate.”

“Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens need my assistance,” he replied, “it seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here.”

“Alright I’ll be back shortly then,” she replied before trotting off towards the Chantry.

“To be left here to starve, or to be taken by the darkspawn,” Leliana said, “no one deserves that, not even a murderer.”

As she was walking in front of them all, no one noticed the sad look that crossed her face. Quickly she pulled her mask back on to her face.

She heard someone yelling at the steps of the Chantry, putting fear in the hearts of those nearby. She sighed before moving to deal with it.

“Why don’t you keep your voice down?” she asked soothingly after he singled her out. Yet again.

_Why me, why don’t they ever single out Alistair? This is bullshit._

“I watched the black horde descend on my people!” he shouted, “I will not be silent!”

The villagers around them were starting to lose hope, and buy into his preaching.

“This minion is but the first of those who will destroy us!” he yelled.

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

“You poor man,” she said soothingly, “what happened to you?”

“My family, my clan…” he said lowering his voice to match hers though still clearly distraught, “those creatures butchered them all. Some of us fled here… but we cannot escape the darkspawn.”

“It must have been horrible,” she replied, still speaking soothingly, this was the only way to unwind a wound up child after all, “how did you escape?”

“I… I ran,” he said tearfully, “hearing my wife’s screams as they dragged her off. She… she had the hair the same color as yours.”

“I see,” she said, “but you’re not doing her memory justice like this.”

“Are you calling me a coward?!” he asked with indignation.

“No,” she replied, “I merely wish for you to think of those who died. No one but you will remember them like this. You should keep their memories close to your heart. Survive so that their memories are never truly forgotten.”

“I… I have shamed my ancestors,” he said with his head in his hands, “you are right… Nothing will come of this.”

She watched as he walked off.

“He was right, wasn’t he?” said a man in Chantry robes, “there’s no hope for us…”

“The second you lose hope,” she said still speaking softly, “is the moment they’ve already won. Do not give in just yet. There are still things that can be done.”

“You’re right…” the man replied, “we can’t give up!”

“But we can’t fight!” said another man, “what are we supposed to do?”

“We can’t lie down and die, either,” said a third man, “we must go north, to Denerim!”

She watched as the three walked off as well. 

_Thank you Father and Valendrian for teaching me diplomatic skills and how to soothe people who are wound up._

“Maker’s breath, Kallian," Alistair said, “how do you do this?”

“Mmm you pick up a lot of things working with children,” she replied, “some of the things you learn applies to adults too.”

“Well, even just diplomatically, you are certainly a force to be reckoned with,” Leliana mused, “you certainly have the charisma that one would expect from a leader.”

“I had good teachers and a lot of experience,” she grinned.

_And I pray that the Alienage is doing alright, as well as the orphanage…_


	11. Chantry

“It’s good to see you again,” a templar said stopping them, “Sister Leliana.”

“Thank you, Ser Maron,” Leliana replied.

“Hello,” she greeted, “my name is Kallian, a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well,” Ser Maron replied, “I am Ser Maron.”

“I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions,” she said tilting her head.

“Alright, feel free to ask,” he nodded.

“What can you tell me about the caged Qunari?” she asked.

“Is he still alive?” he asked raising a brow, “the revered mother put him there a few weeks back. He’ll be dead soon enough.”

“Alright,” she said moving to enter the Chantry, “oh, and, consider your bandit problem dealt with.”

As they entered the Chantry, she heard Leliana and Morrigan arguing again and sighed.

“I see you have returned, Sister,” a templar said interrupting them, “I thought you had left the Chantry for good.”

“I have, Ser Bryant,” Leliana replied.

“And who is the lady with you, if I might ask?” he said nodding to her.

“My name is Kallian,” she replied, “a pleasure to meet you.”

_Huh... That’s surprising, not used to being referred to as a lady._

“I am Ser Bryant,” he replied, “commander of Lothering’s remaining templars.”

“You don’t seem like the other refugees,” Ser Bryant noted, “are you one of Arl Eamon’s knights?”

“Do many of them come here?” she asked

“Some have, in recent days,” he replied.

“For what?” she asked.

“Arl Eamon has fallen ill, and his knights are on a quest,” Ser Bryant said, “they’re looking for the sacred urn filled with Andraste’s ashes, said to cure any malady. He must be very ill if they chase miracles as the only cure.”

“Arl Eamon is sick?!” Alistair said in shock, “we need to head to Redcliffe, and soon.”

“We’ll need money to travel there,” she said, “we’ll get Sten, make quick work of the chanters board, buy some tents, and a map, and food.”

“Okay, I’m trusting you,” Alistair nodded.

“One of the arl’s knights, Ser Donall, is here searching for fantasies while…” Ser Bryant sighed, “never mind. Ask him if you care about this foolishness.”

“Ser Donall?” Alistair said, “we’ll look for him soon right?”

“Do you have any news about current affairs?” she asked.

This is a rather important question. Her, Morrigan, and Alistair had been out of contact with the rest of the world for three weeks.

“Other than the darkspawn horde bearing down on us?” Ser Bryant said, “none of it is good.”

“Care to elaborate?” she asked.

“Teyrn Loghain is set to declare himself king, I hear,” Ser Bryant said, “disaster piled on disaster.”

“Teyrn Loghain is?!” Alistair said angrily, “but—”

She pinched his hand sharply, to interrupt him, and hope he understood her actions.

“Is there no heir to the throne?” she asked.

“None that we know of, Teyrn Loghain has no legitimate claim on the throne. He may be a hero, and his daughter may be queen,” Ser Bryant sighed, “but he is a commoner, and the king’s corpse is barely cold. If Arl Eamon was able to intervene, perhaps it would not have gone this far.”

_That’s… Suspicious… Arl Eamon sick at a critical time like this… Loghain isn’t just any kind of general, he’s both a seasoned strategist and tactician, it wouldn’t be that far of a stretch to assume he’s behind this. The darkspawn had clearly been at the tower for at least two or three hours, those barricades they set up would have taken time. Not only that but they also had time to add the flesh of the defenders to their barricades… Was this his plan from the beginning…? No, I don’t know enough to make this assumption. I’ll keep this to myself for now. It’s just conjecture. I have neither evidence nor proof, and blindly blaming someone helps no one._

“I do not care who takes the throne,” Ser Bryant said interrupting her thoughts, “only fools fight over who owns a cottage while it burns down around them.”

“Things look pretty dire in the village,” she said.

“They are, with the bann having taken his men north, the village is left to its fate,” Ser Bryant sighed, “we will evacuate as many as we can before the horde reaches us, and I will stay as long as I am needed.”

_Oh! Same._

“Can you offer any help to the Grey Wardens?” she looked around and leaned in close to him to whisper. 

“That… is certainly worthy of notice,” Ser Bryant replied, “Teyrn Loghain declared all Grey Wardens traitors, responsible for the king’s death. You know this I hope?”

“I’ve heard the rumors,” she replied moving away.

“I don’t believe the Grey Wardens would be as careless or malicious as the teyrn claims,” Ser Bryant replied, “but either way, there it is.”

“I can only pray that there are others who share your opinions,” she said wryly.

“It is best you not linger, though,” Ser Bryant replied, “just in case.”

“Oh! By the way about your bandit problem outside the village…” she said

“Maker’s breath! How many times must we drive them off!” Ser Bryant groaned.

“They won’t bother you again,” she replied, “they picked the wrong target.”

“All of them? By yourself?” Ser Bryant asked in shock.

“What are we?” Alistair said, “chopped liver?”

“Clearly this man’s sight needs to be checked,” Morrigan said, “’tis not hard to see that we are her companions.”

“Though I personally had nothing to do with it. I met her after she dispatched the bandits,” Leliana giggled. 

“Forgive me,” Ser Bryant said lowering his head in apology, “I was just shocked to hear that they’ve been dealt with.”

“It’s true,” another Templar said walking up to them, “I saw it from my post. It was over so fast we didn’t even have time to get over there.”

“Sad that it needed to come to that,” Ser Bryant sighed and handed her a small coin pouch, “but then they asked for it. Will you accept this small reward for your service?”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” she said accepting it.

“And take this too,” Ser Bryant said offering her a key, “it opens a chest in the back, filled with things we can’t bring with us when we evacuate. Help yourself.”

“Thank you very much,” she said, “this will help us greatly.”

“Now if you’re quite done, I need to return to work,” Ser Bryant said as more templars walked up to him for orders.

“Thank you for your time,” she nodded before heading off.

“There,” Alistair said, “I think that’s Ser Donell.”

“Who?” the man said turning around, “I beg your pardon. I did not see your approach.”

“Ser Donell, it IS you,” Alistair said.

“Alistair? By the Maker, how are you?” Ser Donell said, “I… I was certain you were dead!”

“Very nearly, Ser Donell,” Alistair replied.

“I was closer to death from what I heard,” she frowned, and Alistair rolled his eyes.

“May I introduce my fellow Grey Warden?” Alistair said, “we are the last two in Ferelden, as far as I know.”

“Terrible news, indeed,” Ser Donell frowned, “pleased to meet you, my lady. Might I know your name?”

_My Lady? That’s a first._

“My name is Kallian Tabris,” she said, “it’s pleasure to meet you.”

“I trust you are staying discreet?” Ser Donell warned, “with the bounty placed on your heads?”

“We’ve heard Loghain’s accusations,” Alistair frowned, “but he’s the one who betrayed the king!”

“If Arl Eamon were well,” Ser Donell said, “he’d set Loghain straight soon enough.”

“So you’re here looking for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, then?” Alistair asked.

“I am indeed,” Ser Donell nodded, “Andraste’s ashes are said to cure any illness, but I fear we are chasing a fable. With each day, my hope dims.”

“When did the arl fall ill?” she asked.

“The arl fell ill before the king died,” Ser Donell answered.

She put her hand on her chin and closed her eyes in contemplation.

_If it were just anyone, I wouldn’t be so suspicious… But since he IS well versed in tactics and strategy… It’s an easy enough ploy… Underhanded methods are frowned upon, but in some cases necessary. If I were Loghain, I would certainly take out opposition as soon as possible… What… What happened to the innocent me who’d never considered this kind of thing?_

“Kallian, do you know something?” Alistair asked turning to her.

“No, no, just mentally reviewing the information we’ve already gathered,” she shook her head.

“We should see what’s happening in Redcliffe ourselves,” Alistair said, “I believe that now more than ever.”

“Traveling still costs money,” she replied.

“If nothing else, I am certain you would be welcome at Castle Redcliffe,” Ser Donell said, “the arlessa is there, and she could tell you more than I could.”

“Oh! I forgot!” she said slamming her fist into her palm, “please send a message to Ser Jory’s wife saying that he died.”

“Ser Jory did?” Ser Donell asked, “thank you for telling me, I’ll be sure to send that message along to her.”

“I’m sure he’d be pleased,” she replied, “oh and what can you tell us of the Urn of Sacred Ashes?”

“Supposedly the Urn contains the ashes of the prophetess Andraste,” Ser Donell said, “surely you know all this.”

“I’d like to know what you’ve found,” she replied, “just in case.”

“If you’re truly interested, there are books here containing a great deal of lore, nothing I have found leads me to believe that this was anything more than a quest of desperation” Ser Donell said, “I intend to return to Redcliffe soon, and tell the arlessa exactly that. Once Ser Henric arrives.”

“Ser Henric?” she asked before she began looking through her pack.

“Yes, he is my fellow knight and traveling companion,” Ser Donell said as she continued to search, “he is delayed though.”

“There were bandits out on the Imperial Highway,” she said finally finding both the letter and locket, “this was on the body of the knight they’d killed.”

“Don’t worry, Ser Donell,” Alistair said as she handed them over to him, “we killed them.”

“Maker’s mercy,” Ser Donell sighed, “thank you for giving me these. I would never have known otherwise.”

“You have my sincerest condolences,” she said lowering her head.

“Thank you, I wonder how many of us have met similar fates on this mad quest,” Ser Donell frowned, “with Henric gone, I need to return to Redcliffe. Perhaps later I will seek out the scholar his note mentions. Thank you again, but I must go.”

“Maker watch over you,” she said to him as he walked away.

“You as well,” he replied.

They got the key from the revered mother, and she gave the woman a tithe of three sovereigns, much to Morrigan’s displeasure. After freeing Sten, they began doing the jobs that were posted on the Chanter’s Board.

She frowned slightly after seeing one of the new quests that were posted. It was most likely for the boy’s mother. Sighing, they completed the quest, and noticing evening beginning to turn the world red, they quickly bought some tents and set up camp outside the village, after eating at the tavern. Alistair’s cuisine could wait and bother them another day.

After they finished up in the village, and double-checked that they had everything they’d need they began to leave to move on to Redcliffe.

“I heard them call you Wardens,” a man in front of a group of armed refugees said, “I don’t know if you killed the king or not, and Maker help me, but that bounty on your head could feed a lot of bellies.”

They didn’t even know how to properly swing their blades. They were desperate. And she felt sick after every swing that stole their lives.

_I will never get used to this…_


	12. Camp Side Interactions Part 1

He had been watching this woman, Kallian Tabris, for a while now. While her polite demeanor was indeed surprising for the people of this land. He was not quite sure why the decisions were being left to her. He was also not sure why she was a fighter. Clearly, she was well versed in more than fighting: she wove baskets, knitted clothes and blankets, sewed, and other such things for that dwarven merchant Bodahn to sell for a portion of the profits. Her cooking was also on par with the best of chefs. So, what was she doing fighting like this? She seemed to have many secrets. But he would respect her boundaries and not pry.

***

“So Alistair,” she said sitting down next to him by the fire, Darrian trotted over and laid his head in her lap, “you wanna talk about Duncan?”

“You don’t need to do that,” Alistair replied, “I know you didn’t know him as long as I did.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t talk about him,” she replied scratching her hounds ears, “he was like a father to you, right?”

“I… should have handled it better,” Alistair replied after a pause, “Duncan warned me right from the beginning that this could happen. Any of us could die in battle. I shouldn’t have lost it, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight and… and…everything… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replied, “the Wardens were like family to you, were they not? Losing people is always hard on the heart.”

“I’d like to have a proper funeral for him,” Alistair said sadly, “maybe once this is all done, if we’re still alive. I don’t think he had any family to speak of.”

“He had you,” she replied.

There was no use hating someone who’d already died, and she could respect what he meant to Alistair. So, she decided to let go of her hate. There was no changing the past. No matter what, Nelaros was dead, Shianni was changed, and… and her community… Maker please watch over them… She couldn’t go back to them though. Not after everything. Perhaps once this was all over, she’d find a nice cliff overlooking the ocean, and fling herself off of it. That sounded rather nice, actually.

“I suppose he did,” Alistair sighed, “it probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I was with him. In the battle. I feel like I abandoned him.”

Her hand froze for a second.

“I understand,” she said.

“Of course, I’d be dead then wouldn’t I?” Alistair sighed, “it’s not like that would make him happier.”

“Well, we almost died on top of that tower regardless,” she said wryly, “and if you died and I didn’t… I know next to nothing about being a Grey Warden. The two of us against the Blight sounds daunting enough, can you imagine what it’d be like if it were just me and my confusion? Not knowing what the fuck was happening?”

“I suppose it was a good thing I survived as well then,” Alistair laughed, “thank you… I needed that.”

“Anytime, Alistair,” she said pushing Darrian’s head off her lap to go tend to dinner.

***

He was taking his turn for watch when he heard her restlessly start rolling around.

“Bad dreams, huh?” he asked her as she sat up.

“Not nearly as bad as my usual ones, but sure,” Kallian replied rubbing at her eyes, “weird giant dragons are kinda scary, I guess.”

“…What kind of things do you usually dream about?” he found himself asking.

“…Nothing good,” Kallian replied sadly, “and not something I want to share, I’m afraid. Must be something I ate…”

“Drank more like,” he reminded her, “as in the tainted blood? Remember?”

“I thought that was supposed to be a secret,” Kallian said gesturing to the rest of the camp.

“Errr… well…” he coughed, “part of being a Grey Warden is being able hear the darkspawn, that was what your dream was: hearing them. The archdemon, it ‘talks’ to the horde, and we feel it, just as they do. That’s why we know this is really a Blight.”

“Are these dreams going to happen often?” Kallian asked.

“It takes a bit, but eventually you can block the dreams out,” he replied, “some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the archdemon a bit, but I sure can’t.”

“It’s probably trying to get them all to laugh at a stupid joke,” Kallian replied.

“Ha! Wouldn’t that be something to think about,” he laughed, “anyhow, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me, too.”

“Any other surprises I should know about?” Kallian asked raising a brow.

“Other than dying young, and the whole defeat-the-Blight-alone thing?” he replied, “no, I’m all tapped out for surprises.”

“Alrightie then,” Kallian replied stretching her arms, “look like day’s about to break. I’ll start on breakfast.”

He watched her yawn and go about cooking breakfast.

_Weird, she didn’t question the whole dying young thing. That would usually trip someone up. And worse dreams than the archdemon? What kind of dreams are worse than that?_

***

“Leliana,” Kallian said calling out to her one night at camp, “look what Bodhan was selling.”

She took the fat lute Kallian offered her, “a lute?”

“You like to sing a lot right?” Kallian asked, “do you know how to play?”

“I do,” she replied smiling, “I was a traveling minstrel once, you know.”

“Well, now you’re a traveling minstrel again,” Kallian laughed, “on the road fighting and singing.”

“You’re right!” she replied laughing, “I suppose I am!”

“Play a song?” Kallian asked sitting down nearby, Darrian of course trotting up to her and forcing his head in her lap.

“Of course,” she smiled, and began to sing.

***

“Hey, Sten,” Kallian said coming up to him while holding a book, “do you know what this is?”

“This is… A book on the Prayers for the Dead,” he replied with a measure of shock, “where did you find this?”

“Bodahn sold it to me,” Kallian replied, “he said that it was Qunari related but didn’t know more than that.”

_The dwarf? How did the dwarf come across something like this? Astounding._

“It’s yours if you’d like,” Kallian said.

“…Thank you,” he replied.

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

***

She looked up as Kallian approached her from all the way across the camp.

“Is there something you need?” she asked.

“I made you something,” Kallian replied while holding out a doll that looked just like Alistair.

“A doll that looks like Alistair?” she frowned, “why would I want such a thing?”

“For when he annoys you,” Kallian grinned, “you can abuse the doll and pretend it’s him.”

“How very devious of you,” she replied returning her grin, “thank you Kallian, I think I shall do just that.”

“You’re welcome,” Kallian smiled.

After Kallian had turned to grant her some privacy, she cast a small spell upon the doll.

And smiled as she heard Alistair give a loud yelp from across the camp...

***

“Say… Alistair,” she asked, “how did you become a Grey Warden? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to though, was just curious.”

“Same way you did,” Alistair replied, “you drink some blood, you choke on it and pass out. You haven’t forgotten already, have you?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” she sighed.

“Let’s see… I was in the Chantry before,” Alistair said thoughtfully, “I trained for many years to become a templar, in fact. That’s where I learned most of my skills.”

“You don’t seem the religious sort,” she replied wryly.

“You’re telling me!” Alistair laughed, “I was banished to the kitchens to scour the pots more times than I can count. And that’s a lot; I can count pretty high.”

“Can you now?” she raised a brow.

“It’ll take all night if I tried,” Alistair replied, “anyway, the grand cleric didn’t want to let me go. Duncan was forced to conscript me, actually. And was she ever furious when he did. I thought she was going to have us both arrested. I was lucky.”

“Why didn’t the grand cleric want to let you go?” she asked.

“I wondered that myself,” Alistair said in contemplation, “it’s not as if she valued my highly. I think… that maybe she just didn’t want to give anything to the Grey Wardens.”

“Interesting…” she replied.

“The Chantry didn’t lose much,” Alistair shrugged, “and I think I can do more good fighting the Blight, rather than just sitting in a temple somewhere.”

“You have a point,” she nodded.

“I’ll always be thankful to Duncan for recruiting me,” Alistair said sadly, “if it hadn’t been for him…”

“Take your time, Alistair,” she said soothingly.

“He was a good man,” Alistair said, “a good man who didn’t deserve his fate. That much I’m sure of.”

_Yep, never going to tell Alistair my own thoughts towards the man. In any case, I can still respect his actions towards Alistair; and I don’t need to like him to respect his influence on Alistair.._


	13. Trap

From Lothering to Redcliffe, would take three weeks of travel. With Bodahn more or less accompanying them, they had him haul their camping materials around as part of their deal.

One week into their travels, a woman came up to them shouting.

“Oh thank the Maker!” she shouted, “we need help! They attacked the wagon; please help us! Follow me! I’ll take you to them!”

“It’s a trap,” she noted after the woman had run away.

“What makes you say that?” Alistair asked.

“She’s running ahead of us,” she replied, “normally, one would simply point and hide behind the people they asked for help.”

“Then we should proceed cautiously,” Sten remarked.

“Let’s see what they’ve got,” she grinned.

They leisurely walked in the direction the woman had run in. Sten and Leliana decided to have a conversation about what Leliana was doing in the Chantry.

“You were in the Chantry,” Sten remarked, “you are a priest?”

“No, no,” Leliana replied, “I was a lay sister of the Chantry.”

“Which means?” Sten asked.

“I lived and worked in the Chantry,” Leliana explained, “but I did not take any vows.”

“So you…” Sten was trying to make sense of this, “dabbled in priesthood then?”

“Oh no,” Leliana said waving her hand, “the lay sisters don’t have the same sorts of duties as priests.”

“So you were not a priest, did none of their duties, and took no vows,” Sten said listing off what she’d told him, “but you lived among them?”

“Yes!” Leliana said happily.

“…You were a house guest of the Chantry?” Sten replied.

“Um…” Leliana frowned, “something like that, I guess.”

Finally they reached the area where the woman had run.

“The Grey Wardens die here!” an elf yelled as more opposition walked out of hiding.

“Told ya,” she remarked before dodging a falling tree, “it was a trap.”

She crossed blades with the male elf as Sten, Leliana, and Alistair moved to attack the others, trusting in her fearless skill.

After dealing with him, she ran around the battlefield disabling traps.

Once the rest of the enemies were taken care of, she pulled out rope from her pack.

“I don’t know how to tie people up,” she said turning to Sten, “can you do it for me please?”

He grunted and took the rope from her and proceeded to tie up the unconscious elf, as Morrigan walked up wondering what was going on.

“Mmm… what? I… oh,” the elf groaned as he came to, “I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven’t killed me yet.”

“Are all you elves the same?” Morrigan frowned.

“What?” the elf asked in confusion.

“I said something along those lines not two or three weeks ago,” she explained, “but that’s besides the point, I have some questions.”

“Ah! So I’m to be interrogated, let me save you some time then,” the elf replied, “my name is Zevran, Zev to my friend. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have failed at, sadly.”

“I’m rather happy you failed,” Alistair frowned.

“So would I be, in your shoes,” Zevran replied, “for me, however, it sets a rather poor precedent doesn’t it? Getting captured by a target seems a tad detrimental to one’s budding assassin career.”

“What are the Antivan Crows anyway?” she asked tilting her head to the side.

“I can tell you that,” Leliana explained, “they are an order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful, and renowned for always getting the job done… So to speak. Someone went to great expense to hire this man.”

“Quite right,” Zevran nodded, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard much of the Crows out here. But where I come from, we’re rather infamous.”

“I’ve never really been important enough to have to worry about being assassinated,” she said wryly before accidentally letting out a sigh of relief.

"Why are you sighing in relief?" Alistair frowned.

"Oh... Just relieved he's after us for being Grey Wardens," she said looking away.

“Your skull was truly cracked more than Mother thought,” Morrigan frowned.

“Why else would an assassin be after us?” Leliana asked.

“Ehhhh… Who knows really,” she shrugged and ignored the questioning looks, “anyway, too bad for you.”

“Yes… it’s true,” Zevran replied staring at her wonderingly, “too bad for me.”

“So you came all the way from Antiva?” she asked curiously.

“Not precisely,” Zevran replied, “I was in the neighborhood when the offer came. The Crows get around, you see.”

“Apparently,” she replied, trying to remember where Antiva even was.

Living in the Alienage was a sheltered life. Assassins, traveling to different lands, all of these things were completely new to her.

“Who hired you to kill us?” Alistair frowned.

“A rather taciturn fellow in the capital, Loghain, I think his name was? Yes, that’s it,” Zevran replied, “He also said to be extra careful of the redheaded female elf, and to make sure that she at the very least died. Though he did not say why.”

“What?” Leliana asked curiously, “Kallian, do you know why?”

“Yes, actually,” she said squatting and grabbing a nearby stick.

She began to sketch out a map of Ostagar from memory.

“Why are you drawing Ostagar?” Alistair asked.

“When I was at the War Council,” she explained, pointing to the area where the war council was held, “King Cailan had asked that the two of us be sent to the Tower, Loghain was against this idea.”

“Sooo?” Alistair frowned.

“The one who backed up King Cailan’s proposal, was me, at the time I didn’t know darkspawn could also sense us,” she said frowning, “however, after I had just arrived at Ostagar, I decided that acquainting myself with the area would be the smarter course of action; as I figured that anywhere could turn into a battlefield. I had talked to a guard standing outside the Tower of Ishal that day.”

She pointed at the tower with her stick; noting Darrian was anxious for her to stop and throw the stick for him.

“The guard told me that they had found an entrance leading to lower chambers,” she said, “so I hypothesized that the darkspawn had created the entrance, and then vacated the area. Luring us into a false sense of security, until the start of the battle.”

She drew lines from the tower to the rest of the camp. She ignored the astonished and questioning looks from her companions.

“They could then infiltrate the Tower of Ishal, and take over the entire encampment,” she said throwing the stick for Darrian and dusting off her hands as she stood back up, “that’s why we were sent to the Tower, to make sure that someone there could light the beacon.”

_Also, he likely heard about my exploits in the Arl of Denerims estate and decided I was the larger threat. But they don’t need to know that, and I’m certainly not willing to talk about it._

From the corner of her eye, she could see Sten watching her closely, before nodding in approval.

“So then…” Alistair stared thoughtfully, “you’re the reason we survived?”

“I guess so,” she said wryly, “honestly, I was kinda hoping I was wrong.”

“I can certainly see why Loghain would think you the largest threat now,” Zevran mused.

“So,” she said returning to the main topic, “are you loyal to Loghain then?”

“No, I’m not loyal to him,” Zevran replied, “I was contracted to perform a service.”

“And now that you’ve failed that service?” she asked.

“Well, that’s between Loghain and the Crows,” Zevran said, “and between the Crows and myself.”

“And between you and me?” she asked raising a brow.

“Isn’t that what we’re establishing now?” Zevran laughed.

“When were you to see Loghain next?” Leliana asked.

“I wasn’t. If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results,” Zevran explained, “if he didn’t already know, anyway. If I had failed, I would be dead. Or I should be, at least as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then.”

“If you had failed?” Alistair asked.

“What can I say? I’m an eternal optimist, ” Zevran laughed, “although the chances of succeeding at this point seems a bit slim, don’t they? No, I don’t suppose you’d find that funny, would you.”

“Was I supposed to laugh?” she wondered.

“How much were you paid anyway?” Alistair asked.

“I wasn’t paid anything. The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand anyway,” Zevran shrugged, “which does make me about as poor as a Chantry mouse, come to think of it. Being an Antivan Crow isn’t for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest.”

“Then why are you one?” Alistair raised a brow.

“Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition, I suppose it’s because I wasn’t given much of a choice,” Zevran shrugged again, “the Crows bought me young, I was a bargain, too, or so I’m led to believe.”

That caused her to frown deeply.

“But don’t let my sad story influence you, the Crows aren’t so bad. They keep one well supplied: Wine, women, men. Whatever you happen to fancy,” Zevran mused, “though the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I’d really think twice about it.”

“Thanks,” she replied monotonously, “I’ll take that under advisement.”

“You seem like a bright girl,” Zevran grinned, “I’m sure you’ve other options.”

“So why are you telling us all this?” Alistair frowned.

“Why not? I wasn’t paid for silence,” Zevran laughed, “not that I offered it for sale, precisely.”

“Aren’t you at least loyal to your employers?” Alistair’s frown deepened.

“Loyalty is an interesting concept,” Zevran replied, “if you wish, and you’re done interrogating me, we can discuss it further.”

“I’m listening,” she sighed.

“Well, here’s the thing, I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit, that’s how it works. If you don’t kill me the Crows will,” Zevran said, “thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So, let me serve you instead.”

Her maternal instincts have been screaming at her for a while now.

“Can I expect the same amount of loyalty from you?” she asked trying to ignore the instincts bugging her.

“I happen to be a very loyal person,” Zevran replied, “well up until the point where someone expects me to die for failing. That’s not really a fault is it?”

“No, it’s not,” she sighed, “and what’s to keep you from finishing the job later?”

Her decision was practically already made, but she needed to be sure she wouldn’t regret this.

“To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child,” Zevran replied, “I think I’ve paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can’t touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I’d rather take my chances with you.”

_That’s rather asinine…_

“But won’t they come after you?” Alistair said glaring at him.

“Possibly, but I happen to know their wily ways, however,” Zevran mused, “I can protect myself, as well as you. Not that you seem to need much help.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed.

“And if not… well, it’s not as if I had many alternative to start with, is it?” Zevran laughed.

“And what would you want in return?” Leliana asked.

“Well… Let’s see, being allowed to live would be nice, and would make me marginally more useful to you” Zevran replied, “and somewhere down the line, if you should decide you no longer have need of me, then I go on my way. Until then I am yours. Is that fair?”

She clenched her fists, as she remembered the last letter Nelaros had sent her before leaving Highever:

_Once I reach Denerim, I will be forever yours._

“Why would we want your service?” Morrigan asked breaking her silence.

“Because I am skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you, should the Antivan Crows attempt something more… Sophisticated… Now that my attempts have failed,” Zevran replied grinning at her, “I could also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors? No?”

“Is this before, or after you stab me in the back?” she asked.

“These things you say,” Zevran clicked his tongue, “they must drive the men back home simply wild!”

She couldn’t keep the pained look from spreading across her face for a brief second.

“So what shall it be?” Zevran said, if he’d seen her change of expressions, he didn’t say, “I’ll even shine armor. You won’t find a better deal, I promise.”

“You must think we’re royally stupid,” she mused.

“I think you’re royally tough to kill, and utterly gorgeous,” Zevran grinned, “not that I think you’ll respond to simple flattery. But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess.”

Sex goddess? That’s a first, and also completely and utterly wrong. The ring weighed heavily on her chest.

“Ah ha ha ha ha,” she laughed monotonously, “you must be joking.”

She sighed and finally decided to give in to her maternal instincts.

“Very well,” she sighed squatting on the ground and untying the ropes binding him, “I accept your offer.”

A confused look crossed Sten’s face for a second. Maybe she’d ask him about it later.

“What?! You’re taking the assassin with us now?!” Alistair shouted.

“I mean…” she shrugged helping Zevran stand, “yeah sure, why not? It’ll keep us on our toes.”

“Your skull really really was cracked worse than Mother thought,” Morrigan frowned.

“What!?” Alistair said confused.

“I’ll see if Bodahn has some silver bowls for sale,” she sighed.

“Why silver?” Alistair said confused.

“Oh ho!” Zevran laughed, “so you know that you can use silver to detect most poisons, do you?”

“I spent some time studying how to make poisons, potions, and medicines,” she sighed.

“Poisons, potions, and medicines?” Alistair asked, “what do poisons have in common with potions and medicines?”

“The apothecary once told me that the strongest medicine is a poison, and the strongest poison is a medicine,” she replied, “anyway we’ve wasted enough time. We should set up camp.”

"By the way," she said turning to Zevran, "your trap sucked."


	14. Camp Side Interactions Part 2

“You are not quite as callow as I thought,” he said to her, thinking back on her earlier display of tactics and strategy, “that is… Unexpected.”

“Oh?” Kallian asked with a raised brow.

“You sound surprised, surely you’ve heard this before,” he remarked, “you’ll get over it. Eventually.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Kallian grinned, “why did you come to Ferelden? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I was sent to be the eyes of the antaam,” he replied, “the arishok asked, ‘What is the Blight?’ by his curiosity, I am now here.”

“Don’t you have to report back, then?” Kallian tilted her head to the side.

“Yes,” was all he said.

“When are you going to do that?” Kallian asked.

“Never,” he replied. And it was true, he could never return home, not as he was now.

“Why not?” Kallian asked.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he frowned.

“What were you doing in that cage?” Kallian asked, brows drawn.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

“I won’t make you tell me anything you don’t want me to know,” Kallian shrugged.

“I caged myself. A weak mind is a deadly foe, as you are no doubt aware,” he replied.

“What do you mean by ‘a weak mind’?” she asked.

“That is… Complicated: I came to your lands with seven of the Beresaad — my brothers— to seek answers about the Blight,” he sighed, “we made our way across the Ferelden countryside without incident, seeing nothing of the threat we were sent to observe. Until the night we camped by Lake Calenhad.”

She was watching him with a serious look on her face. Listening to his every word. And astonishingly, sharing this information helped him process what he felt.

“They came from everywhere: the earth beneath our feet, the air above us, our own shadows harbored the darkspawn,” he continued, “I saw the last of the creatures cut down, too late. I fell.”

“Were there any other survivors?” Kallian asked.

“I am told that no others survived, I don’t know how long I lay on the battlefield among the dead, nor do I know how the farmers found me,” he shook his head, “I only know that when I woke, I was no longer among my brothers, and my sword was gone from my hand.”

“It must’ve been really important to you,” Kallian nodded, he watched as her hand went to grasp at the chain around her neck, “what did you do then?”

“It indeed, was important, that sword was made for my hand alone, I have carried it from the day I was sent into the Beresaad, I was to die wielding it for my people," he nodded, “I searched for it, and when that failed, I asked my rescuers what had become of it.”

“Did they know?” Kallian asked.

“They said they found me with nothing,” he replied, “I panicked. Unthinking, I struck them down. I killed them, with my bare hands. I knew they didn’t have the blade. They had no reason to lie to me.”

“I… Can understand that,” Kallian replied with a strange look on her face.

“Even if I could cross Ferelden and Tevinter unarmed and alone to bring my report to the arishok, I would be slain on sight by the antaam,” he frowned, “they would know be as soulless, a deserter. No soldier would cast aside his blade while he drew breath.”

“I see…” Kallian said, and he could tell she was listening intently, not just pretending to for small talk as he had sometimes seen from his cage, “you fought the darkspawn at Lake Calenhad, yes?”

“Correct,” he replied.

“We’ll be heading there eventually,” she replied, “maybe we can ask around. We may not find it there, but maybe we can find someone who knows where it could be.”

“Perhaps those words are empty,” he replied, “but… Thank you all the same.”

And he could tell that she was going to try her damnedest to help him find his sword.

***

There was something about Kallian. It was a surprise for her as she came to understand this: Kallian was genuinely curious about her life in the Wilds. They’d spend hours talking about this, and that, and normally she’d find such talk boorish and annoying; but with Kallian it felt more like she were sharing secrets with a treasured sister. Sometimes they’d teach each other recipes for potions and other herbal remedies. There was much about the world that she did not know, and Kallian was more than happy to indulge her own curiosity.

***

Sometimes, they’d fall asleep in the same tent, after she had told Kallian a lengthy story that she had learned during her time as a bard. Sometimes she’d share scandalous stories about fashion faux pas that would send her into a fit of giggles. Though throughout their interactions, and despite her smiles and laughs; she could tell that Kallian, much like she, contained a deep seated sorrow within her. One that had torn her soul, and broken her. And as happy she was to indulge Kallian with stories of her own past; whenever she’d ask Kallian about her life before becoming a Grey Warden, she’d only smile sadly, and say that it wasn’t something she wanted to talk about.

***

“Ah,” he said and grabbed a bottle from Kallian. It was a bottle he recognized well: Antivan Brandy, and the good kind.

“Hey,” Kallian frowned at him, “I was using that.”

“To cook dinner with?” he said raising a brow at her, “no, no, not this brandy. Surely you have something else to cook with, yes?”

“Be that as it may,” Kallian’s frown deepened, “I was using **that** brandy.”

“But this is Antivan Brandy,” he protested, holding the bottle out of reach as she tried to reclaim it, “rare Antivan Brandy. Where did you find this anyway?”

“Bodahn was selling it,” Kallian said continuing to try and take it from him, “I thought it’d go nicely in a sauce.”

“Yes, cooking with brandy is all well and good,” he replied, “but surely you have other brandy to work with, yes?”

“But I was using **that** one,” Kallian kept moving around to take it from him, and it was rather difficult to keep it from her reach.

“I will buy you a different brandy to use,” he said, “so let me keep this one, hm?”

“Fine,” Kallian sighed, rolling her eyes as she relented.

And so he quickly made a trip to Bodahn, secretly asked the dwarf to supply him with more, later, and to keep out of Kallian’s sight. After buying a different, good, but not as good brandy, he returned to her and watched as she bustled about cooking dinner with the new brandy he had procured.

***

Kallian was always a reliable shoulder to lean on, she’d listen to his stories about his interactions with the other Grey Wardens and comforted him when his words began to fail him. Like an older sister, he imagined. Though he already had an older sister, a half older sister. One that he was currently keeping secret. Along with his parental situation. He’d probably have to come clean before they entered Redcliffe, but that wasn’t for another few days. So for now he was content to keep her in the dark. He could stand without her treating him differently. Not that she would. Probably. Well he rather be safe than sorry.

***

From what he’d observed about Kallian Tabris, she seemed to roam around the campsite doing this, or that, or whatever she could to keep her hands moving.

There were times where she’d go and spend time with Morrigan, and sometimes they fell asleep after a nice long chat. Other times she spent time with Leliana listening to her stories, and the songs she’d sing. Sometimes she would talk to Sten, and ask him about his peoples.

She was a rather curious woman, and his impression of her thus far was that she had lived a rather sheltered life. Her boundless curiosity led her to chats about the lands they were from and such, and quite honestly? She seemed like she’d be more suited to being a wife, or a servant, certainly not a Grey Warden.

“Kallian,” he found himself unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

“Yes?” Kallian responded as she continued weaving a basket.

“How did someone like you become a Grey Warden?” he asked, “if you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

He noticed her fingers stopping as she froze. All eyes were on her, they were just as curious. Apparently even Alistair had no idea how she was recruited.

And then he felt his breath leave his body. 

She simply smiled the most breathtakingly beautiful, sorrowful, and mournful smile he had ever seen in his entire life.

And then she took the basket she was weaving and retired to her tent for the night.


	15. Redcliffe

Redcliffe came into sight, and Alistair started fidgeting like crazy.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, as he pulled her to the side. Useless considering they were with Leliana and Zevran at the moment.

“Look, can we talk for a moment?” Alistair said, refusing to meet her eye, “I need to tell you something I, uh… should probably have told you earlier?”

“Okay?” she responded.

“Well, let’s see… How do I tell you this?” Alistair said speaking quickly, “we’re almost at Redcliffe. Did I say how I know Arl Eamon, exactly?”

“I can see we’re almost at Redcliffe,” she nodded, “and you did not tell me how you knew Arl Eamon.”

“I’m a bastard!” Alistair practically shouted, “my mother was a serving girl at Recliffe castle, and she died when I was born. Arl Eamon took me in and raised me before I was sent to the Chantry.”

“Okay?” she tilted her head to the side.

“The reason he did that was because…” Alistair kept speaking quickly, “well… because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my… half-brother, I suppose.”

“So, you’re not just a bastard,” she replied, “but a royal bastard?”

“Ha! Yes,” Alistair said, “I guess it does at that. I should use that line more often.”

Alistair took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I would have told you, but, it never really meant anything to me,” Alistair said slowly, “I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan’s rule, and so they kept me a secret. I’ve never talked about it to anyone.”

She nodded indicating she was listening.

“Everyone who knew either resented me for it, or they coddled me,” Alistair sighed, “even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn’t want you to know as long as possible. I’m sorry.”

“I think I understand,” she nodded.

“Good, I’m glad. It’s not like I got special treatment for it, anyhow,” Alistair sighed in relief, “Arl Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais, despite all the problems it caused with the king, so soon after the war. He loved her a great deal. Anyway, the new arlessa resented the rumors which pegged me as the arl’s bastard. They weren’t true, but of course they existed. The arl didn’t care, but she did.”

“I see,” she replied.

“So off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten,” Alistair explained, “just as well, the arlessa made sure the castle wasn’t a home to me by that point. She despised me.”

“Did she know the truth?” she asked

“She may have, but I think it’s more likely that she feared the rumors might be true,” Alistair shrugged, “I can’t blame her for that.”

“I wouldn’t be able to either,” she nodded, “if I were you, anyway.”

“I remember I had an amulet with Andraste’s holy symbol on it, the only thing I had of my mother’s. I was so furious at being sent away, I tore it off and threw it at the wall, and it shattered,” Alistair said wistfully, “stupid, stupid thing to do. The arl came by the monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was stubborn. I hated it there and blamed him for everything… and eventually he just stopped coming.”

“You were young,” she shrugged.

“And raised by dogs, or I may as well have been, the way I acted,” Alistair replied, “but maybe all young bastards act like that, I don’t know.”

“Well, I can’t say,” she replied, “the orphans I dealt with had all lost their parents. Though, by the sounds of it, their living conditions were far better than yours.”

“All I know, is that the arl is a good man and well loved by the people,” Alisair replied, “he was also King Cailan’s uncle, so he has a personal motivation to see Loghain pay for what he did.”

“He might have more of a reason for that as well,” she mumbled quietly.

“What?” Alistair asked, thankfully not hearing her.

“Nothing, nothing,” she said waving her hand.

“Oookay,” Alistair replied, “so there you have it. Now can we move on? And I’ll just pretend you still think I’m some… nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens.”

“As you wish,” she teased, “Your Highness.”

“Oh, lovely,” Alistair sighed, “I’m going to regret this. Somehow I just know it.”

As they approached Redcliffe she couldn’t help but look around in wonder. It was the first she had a place like this. She could also feel Zevran’s scrutinizing gaze. Ever since the night he’d asked her why she was a Grey Warden, he had been closely observing her. It didn’t really bother her though, and maybe she’d ask him about his life as a Crow and whatnot. 

“I… I thought I saw travelers coming down the road,” a man said running up to them, “though I scarcely believed it. Have you come to help us?”

“What do you mean?” Alistair asked, “is there a problem?”

“So you… don’t know?” the man said in shock, “has nobody out there heard?”

“We’ve heard that Arl Eamon is sick,” Alistair replied, “if that’s what you mean.”

“He could be dead for all we know,” the man cried, “nobody’s heard from the castle in days!”

“That doesn’t sound good,” she replied.

“We’re under attack: monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn, everyone’s been fighting… and dying” the man replied, “with no army to defend us, no arl and no king to send us help… So many are dead, and those left are terrified they’re next.”

Her hand was on her chin, eyes closed, in thought.

“Hold on,” Alistair said, “what is this evil that’s attacking you?”

“I… I don’t rightly know,” the man replied, “nobody does.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, “lacking information is never a good thing…”

“I should take you to Bann Teagan,” the man said, “he’s all that’s holding us together. He’ll want to see you.”

“Bann Teagan?” Alistair asked, “Arl Eamon’s brother? He’s here?”

“Yes, Elissa Cousland is also here, it’s not far,” he said, “if you’ll come with me.”

“Just a moment, if you would,” she replied, “Leliana, can you go get Morrigan and Sten? I think we’ll need all hands on deck for this.”

“Of course!” Leliana nodded before trotting off.

_Wait… A bann? And the daughter of the teyrn of Highever? They’ll definitely have heard of me and know my father… I… I hope I can dissuade them from mentioning it…_

“So why are all of us required to be here?” Morrigan asked.

“There’s monsters attacking the village and what not,” she replied.

“You know, just typical things, yes?” Zevran said.

“Apparently, everyone seems to agree that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other,” Morrigan sighed, “marvelous, really.”

“Are you all set then?” the man asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “lead the way.”

While they were led to the village Chantry, she looked around with a critical eye, memorizing the building layout. And after they entered the Chantry, they were lead to a man wearing a finer set of armor than the others.

“It’s… Tomas, yes?” the man asked, “and who are these people with you? They’re obviously not simple travelers.”

“No, my lord,” Tomas replied, “they just arrived, and I thought you would want to see them.”

“Well done, Tomas,” the man replied with a bow, “my name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the arl.”

“I remember you, Bann Teagan,” Alistair said speaking up, “though the last time we met I was a lot younger… and also covered in mud.”

“Covered in mud? Alistair?” Teagan said in astonishment, “it is you, isn’t it? You’re alive! This is wonderful news.”

“I don’t know how to feel about the fact that your defining feature is ‘covered in mud’,” she remarked.

“Still alive, yes, though not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it,” Alistair replied ignoring her.

“Well, he did try to have something to say about it,” Zevran replied, “it just didn’t work out in his favor.”

“Indeed, Loghain would have us believe all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew,” Teagan replied, “amongst other things.”

“No, not all of us died,” she replied, “almost, but not quite.”

“Then are you a Grey Warden as well?” Teagan asked.

“That I am,” she replied with a slight bow, “my name is Kallian Tabris, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Kallian Tabris?” Teagan asked in astonishment, “then you are the daughter of Cyrion, correct?”

“Yes…” she said looking away.

“Did someone say Kallian Tabris? I’m Elissa Cousland daughter of the Teyrn of Highever and I suppose by right of succession, Teryna of Highever,” a woman asked walking up to them, “a pleasure to meet you. But aren’t you…?”

The look on her face asked them to not speak more of her family, she could tell her companions were staring at her with questioning looks. But that was a wound far too fresh for her to want to even so much as whisper it.

“How do you know her father?” Zevran asked, “if you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“My father, is the head servant of Bann Rodolf’s Denerim estate,” she replied solemnly.

“And well respected, even in Highever,” Elissa remarked.

“I see,” Zevran said, “that does explain a lot.”

“Though it also brings up more questions,” Sten frowned, “how does the daughter of a servant have such combat, and tactical abilities?”

“Such mystery,” Zevran remarked, “must surely drive the men back home wild!”

“It didn’t, actually,” she replied, “there was no one back home who wanted to marry me.”

“Then the men from where you came from,” Zevran replied, “must be both foolish and blind to not notice you’re appeal!”

“Ah ha ha ha,” she laughed looking to the side, indicating that she’d speak no more of it, and would rather both Teagan and Elissa not bring it up further. 

Nelaros’s family was also well known in Highever. And since her father was the well respected head servant to Bann Rodolf’s Denerim estate, there was a chance that Elissa had heard of both Nelaros and their wedding.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Teagan coughed.

“Indeed,” Elissa replied, “I’d always wanted to meet the daughter of Cyrion. Though it’s a shame it’s under such circumstances. You’re father would be happy to hear that you’ve survived, however.”

“Don’t… don’t let him know,” she pleaded, “let him continue to believe I’m dead… it’s for the best.”

“If you say so,” Elissa replied, “it would also be best if no one in Denerim knows that I live as well.”

“You’re here to see my brother then?” Teagan asked bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand, “unfortunately, that might be a problem. Eamon is gravely ill.”

“Which affects me as well,” Elissa explained, “since I’ve come here seeking asylum and aid.”

“Asylum?” she asked.

“Arl Howe has betrayed my family,” Elissa replied, “both my mother, father, sister-in-law, nephew, and brother are dead, and I barely survived the attack.”

“What a remarkable coincidence,” Zevran remarked snidely, “I believe that Arl Howe is part of the reason I am here.”

_Conjecture is all I have at the moment. So, it’s nothing I should say._

“No one has heard from the castle in days,” Teagan said, “no guards patrol the walls and no one has responded to our shouts.”

“The attacks started a few nights ago,” Elissa explained sadly, “evil… things… surged from the castle. We drove them back but… many perished during the assault.”

“What kinds of evil things?” Leliana asked.

“Some call them the walking dead,” Teagan replied, “decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh…”

“Oh? Only human flesh?” Zevran asked, “then that means that my dear Warden and I would be safe, no?”

“’My dear Warden?’,” she replied, “and not the time, Zevran.”

“If you say so,” Zevran replied.

“They hit again night after night,” Elissa said, “each night with greater numbers.”

“With Cailan dead and Loghain starting a war over the throne,” Teagan explained, “no one responds to my urgent calls for help.”

“We have a feeling tonight’s assault will be the worst yet,” Elissa stated.

“Alistair, I hate to ask,” Teagan said bowing his head, “but I desperately need the help of you and your friends.”

“Well, we don’t stand much of a chance against Loghain on our own,” she said, “and I figured as much.”

“There are no darkspawn here, and nothing to gain,” Sten said, “it is a fool’s errand.”

“We need an army to fight the darkspawn, Arl Eamon has knights, and a strong political voice,” she replied, “we gain more here by helping, we gain the Arl’s voice and cooperation, as well as his knights. It’s a strategical decision.”

“Are you certain you are the daughter of a servant?” Sten asked.

“My father isn’t the only one I learned from," she replied with a shrug.

“Thank you! Thank you,” Teagan said in relief, “this… means more to me than you can guess.”

_No… I can probably guess… Much like when I tore through the Arl of Denerims estate in a vain attempt at saving both Nelaros and Shianni…_

“Tomas, please tell Murdock what transpired,” Teagan said turning to Tomas, “then return to your post.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Tomas said before leaving.

“Now then, there is much to do before night falls,” Teagan said “I’ve put two men in charge of the defensive outside.”

“Murdock, the village mayor, is outside the Chantry,” Elissa said, “Ser Perth, one of Eamon’s knights is just up the cliff at the windmill, watching the Castle.”

“You should discuss with them the preparations for the coming battle,” Teagan said.

“I will also be participating, I will stand with Ser Perth and the rest of the knights,” Elissa said.

“Do you have a map of the village?” she asked.

“Why do you need one?” Teagan asked.

“For strategy,” she replied.

Teagan sent for someone to find a map, and she poured over it before heading out to talk to Murdock and Ser Perth.


	16. Defense

As she was leaving the Chantry she could see the desperation and waning hope. She needed to do something.

“You… You’re a Grey Warden, right?” a woman asked coming up to her, “were you in Ostagar? In the Kocari Wilds?”

“Yes, why?” she asked.

“My husband and son went there to bring the Chant of Light to the Chasind,” the woman said, “but I haven’t heard from them since.”

“Are you Jetta?” she asked with a somber expression.

“I am, you’ve heard of me?” the woman asked.

“I… have something from your husband and son,” she replied while handing her the lockbox, “you have my sincerest condolences.”

“Oh... It’s his lockbox… Oh no,” the woman said, tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry, thank you so much for bringing this to me… it means a lot to…”

All she could do was offer the woman a comforting pat on the back.

“Take your time,” she said before she had to leave.

The sounds of a heartbroken crying woman reached her ears, and she had to stop.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?” the girl sniffled, “I… I’ll try to be more quiet.”

“Are you alright?” she asked soothingly.

“Those… those things dragged my mother away. I don’t know what happened to her, but I hear her screaming all the time,” she cried, “everywhere!”

“How terrible! You poor thing…” Leliana said, “I wish there was something we could do to help.”

“And now my brother, Bevin… he ran off,” the girl cried, “I don’t know where he is! I’m scared they got him too!”

“Do you know why he would run off?” she asked.

“He said something about saving Mother…” the girl replied, “he’s just a little boy! He doesn’t understand she’s gone. I hope he didn’t try to go to the castle! Oh that would be awful!”

“There are defenders out there,” she said soothingly, “they wouldn’t have let him go to the castle. Do you know where he might be?”

“I don’t know! I went to our house, it’s by the square. He wasn’t there. I searched the rest of the village too,” the girl sniffled, “I called and I called but he never answered. I… I wonder if he ran off into the woods! I’m so worried! Without me he has nobody!”

“I need you to be strong,” she said putting a hand on her shoulder, “we’ll keep an eye out for him.”

“Once again we’re off on a quest to detour us from our objective,” Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“Ah, but it’s one of her charms, is it not?” Zevran replied.

Leaving the Chantry she couldn’t help but frown deeply.

“What are these barricades…” she let out an aggravated sigh.

“Tell them to maintain watch,” a voice said, “I don’t want a surprise attack before the sun goes down.”

“Yes, ser,” someone replied, “what should we do until then?”

“Pray,” he said, “and hope for a miracle.”

She walked up to him, since he seemed to be the voice of authority here.

“So, you’re the Grey Warden, are you?” the man said, “I didn’t think they made women Grey Wardens.”

“And why would you think that?” she frowned.

“For more reason’s than you’d care to hear, I bet,” the man said, “still, there’s no reason to think Bann Teagan’s lost his mind.”

Her sharpened gaze sent chills down his spine.

“We aren’t going to turn aside anyone who wants to help, though,” the man coughed, “don’t take me for being an ingrate or nothing.”

“That’s good,” Zevran said from behind her, “the survival rate of ingrates is remarkably low, so I hear.”

_Odd, why is **his** voice tinged with anger?_

“Well, we do want to help however we can,” Alistair said, “you can trust us.”

“Name’s Murdock, mayor of what’s left of the village,” Murdock said, “providing we aren’t all killed and hauled off to the castle tonight.”

“Have faith,” she said, “we’ll get through this.”

“I... I hope you’re right,” Murdock sighed, “I’ve been trying to hold us together, but it isn’t easy.”

“It never is,” she replied, “that you’ve lasted this long is a testament to your abilities.”

“Anyhow,” Murdock said, “you’re here and they tell me you’re in charge.”

“So you’ll follow what I say?” she asked.

“Yes,” Murdock replied.

“Then Maker’s breath move these barricades, their positions are terrible!” she began shouting orders, “move them so that they’re between the gaps in the houses. From there you can take them out from range, as they’ll be stuck, funneled where you want them.”

The men quickly began moving the barricades as she ordered, and she kept pointing where she wanted what moved where. She had Alistair, Sten, and Zevran help them to save time.

“We’ll have Leliana and Morrigan stay down here during the assault,” she said, “you two specialize in attacking from range. And the rest of us specialize in close quarters combat.”

“How’s morale looking?” she asked turning to Murdock, while everyone else set about moving the barricades.

“Morale’s about what you’d expect,” Murdock replied, after recovering from his shock, “these men aren’t soldiers— they’re villagers defending their homes, and they’re frightened.” 

“I see,” she closed her eyes.

“It would help if we had decent equipment, there weren’t enough swords in Owen’s shop,” Murdock replied, “and the men’s armor is nearly falling off. I don’t think we’re in any shape to fight. We’ll do our best, of course, but…well I have my doubts. I just hope I’m alive tomorrow morning.”

“So what do you need?” she asked.

“We need what little armor and weapons we’ve got repaired, and quickly, or half of us will be fighting without either,” Murdock replied, “Owen’s the only blacksmith who can do it, but the stubborn fool refuses to even talk. If we’re to be ready for tonight, we’ll need that crotchety bastard’s help.”

“Why is he refusing to talk?” she needed to get to the heart of the matter so that she could convince him to open shop.

“His daughter, Valena, is one of the arlessa’s maids,” Murdock replied, “so he hasn’t heard from her since this whole business started.”

“I see…”

“He demanded we attack the castle, break down the gate, and force our way in,” Murdock explained, “I said it was impossible but he wouldn’t listen.”

Zevran let out a bark of laughter causing her to frown.

“Sorry, sorry,” Zevran said, “please, do not mind me, and carry on.”

“He’s locked himself in the smithy now,” Murdock said frowning at Zevran, “I can’t force him to do repairs… said he’d rather die first.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she sighed, “anything else?”

“We could use some extra bodies, having a veteran like Dwyn in the militia would help a lot,” Murdock replied, “but he flat out refuses.”

“What do you know about him?” Leliana asked.

“He’s a trader, a dwarf, lives near the lake,” Murdock explained, “locked himself up in his home with some of his workers. Says he doesn’t need any of us. We could use somebody with his fighting experience, but he won’t come out.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she replied with a sigh.

“We’re the last defenders of them folks in the Chantry— the women, elderly, and the children. They’re the ones we need to protect,” Murdock said.

“The weak must learn to protect themselves,” Sten said.

“That is unworthy of you, Sten,” Leliana frowned, “are the Qunari never in need of aid? Are your people so heartless?”

“I agree with Sten,” Morrigan said speaking up, “if you want to accomplish something ‘tis most important that you learn how to do it yourself.”

“No Qunari would ever cower helplessly, not women, nor elder, nor child,” Sten replied, “they would fight for their survival with tooth and nail.”

“I’ve had to do that before,” she sighed.

“Oh? Against the darkspawn?” Zevran asked.

“No,” was all she said, and it was clear she wouldn’t speak more of it.

“Well… we’re not Qunari,” Murdock said, “I’m not asking those folk to fight monsters.”

For a brief second, she found herself reliving the events in the Arl of Denerim’s estate. Her anger, her hatred, her fury, her need to protect those she loved. And the despair of failing to do so.

“No matter what happens,” Murdock said, “we can’t let them evil things in there. If they die, the village is done.”

“Do you have any idea what’s happening up there?” she asked.

“Don’t rightly know,” Murdock said, “we heard the arl was sick, and getting worse, but after a while we heard nothing at all.”

“Morrigan, do you have an idea?” she asked.

“Well, there is certainly magic at play,” Morrigan replied, “but more than that I cannot say.”

“Alright then let’s go talk to people and get them to do shit, and hopefully I won’t have to tear my hair out,” she sighed.

“Oh, please don’t,” Leliana said, “I rather like your hair.”

Running around the village, the found Bevin, scolded him, sent him back to his sister. Yelled at Owen, and convinced him to open up shop, and stopped outside of Dwynn’s house.

“Hey, Zevran?” she asked.

“What is it my dear Warden?” Zevran responded.

“Can you pick this lock while I figure something out?” she said gesturing to the door, before pulling the map of the village out again.

Zevran froze for a second, before taking out his lock picks.

“…” she put the map down after a minute, and looked at Zevran, tilting her head to the side, “is it that hard of a lock?”

“You can certainly try yourself, my dear warden,” Zevran said before moving away.

She had it open in twenty seconds, and stared at Zevran, who was looking away.

“You’re such a liar,” she laughed.

Dwynn ended up making her put on her scary face to get him to agree to helping defend the village, her apparent natural inborn charisma was doing wonders for morale. She decided to stop by the tavern to see what was going on in there.

“Another doomed soul come to drown their sorrows here, I see?” a woman said as they entered, “if you came here for a drink, you’ll have to talk to Lloyd. He’s got a vise grip on the spigots. I’m just here to keep the boys from mutiny.”

Immediately she noticed another elf in the corner. He seemed restless, and also not one of the villagers.

“What do you know about that guy?” she said pointing.

“Not much, he’s very quiet,” she replied, “says his name’s Berwick and he’s here to meet his brother, but I think he’s lying. He’s a bit… creepy.”

“So how’s business?” she asked with a shrug.

“What business?” the woman laughed, “without the castle soldiers, the only customers we have are local, and they’re all in the militia, with no money to spend.”

“Yeah, I can see how that’d put a damper on things,” she nodded.

“The few with any money are here,” the woman said looking at the group in the corner, "but it’s not enough to justify working. Lloyd’s a greasy pig, and if I didn’t need this job so badly…”

“You don’t care for Lloyd, do you?” she asked.

“He gropes me and pays me next to nothing, but I suppose it could be worse,” the woman sighed, “not like I got many options.”

“I see,” she replied.

“What can you do? Girls like me don’t get much choice if we don’t want to join the Chantry,” the woman shrugged, “and it’s too late to get married.”

The word married caused her to involuntarily twitch; and she had to chase thoughts and images of Nelaros out of her mind.

“Shouldn’t you be at the Chantry?” she asked shaking off the images of her past.

“Later on, yes, Lloyd will lock himself in the cellar, and I’ll go to the chantry,” the woman replied, “are you… fighting tonight?”

“That we are,” she nodded.

“That’s… good to hear,” the woman smiled, “I didn’t know that.”

After talking to the group of men in the corner, and finding out that the woman’s name was Bella, and that no one could afford booze she decided to approach the elf. She and Zevran shared a knowing look before walking up to him.

“Not looking for company,” Berwick said as she approached.

“Shouldn’t you be with the militia?” she asked tilting her head to the side.

“Why? I don’t live here,” Berwick replied.

“Then what are you doing here?” Zevran asked.

“Just waiting until I can leave again,” Berwick replied.

“So I hear your names Berwick?” she said.

“What?! How did you know that?!” Berwick panicked before quickly trying to calm himself down, “err… well, that is my name. Why?”

“You seem awfully nervous,” Zevran noted, “tell me: why is that?”

“I... No reason,” Berwick stuttered, “I just… didn’t know how you knew my name, that’s all.”

“We asked around,” she replied.

“Oh… I guess that… makes sense,” Berwick said fidgeting before turning to her, “look, you’re very pretty and all, but I was told to… errr... Just leave me alone!”

“What do you mean?” Leliana asked, “what were you told to do?”

“Nothing! Nobody told me to do anything,” Berwick frowned, “just because you’re a Grey Warden doesn’t mean you can go around threatening people!”

“Oh? And who told you that I’m a Grey Warden?” she asked.

“I just… uhm,” Berwick panicked, “overheard it… That’s all. If you’ll excuse me… I want to get to the Chantry before the sun goes down.”

“This’ll be much easier for you,” Zevran said, “if you just told us what you’re hiding, hm?”

“If I…? But I never… oh, all right!” Berwick gave up, “I’ll tell you! Just… don’t hurt me.”

“I’m listening,” she said.

“This is more than I bargained for, look, they just paid me to watch the castle and send word if anything should change,” Berwick said, “but they never said anything about monsters… I haven’t even been able to report anything since this started! I’m stuck same as you, I swear!”

“Who? Who hired you to watch the castle?” Alistair frowned.

“A tall fellow, I forget his name,” Berwick relented, “he uhh, said he was working for Howe, Arl Rendon Howe.”

Her dagger was at his neck in a flash, “did you say anything about Elissa Cousland being here?”

“No! I didn’t! I swear!” Berwick panicked.

She withdrew her dagger slowly, glaring at him over the blade.

“Arl Howe’s an important man,” Berwick said, “Teyrn Loghain’s right hand! So I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“What were you supposed to watch the castle for?” Alistair asked.

“Just to report any changes, honest! All I could send word about was the arl getting sick,” Berwick sighed, “after that, monsters started coming from the castle.”

“So what do you know about the current situation?” she asked.

“I don’t know anything about these creatures! When the arl got sick, I got scared that people would think I was involved,” Berwick replied, “but I swear I don’t know anything about it! They sent me to watch. Maybe they knew the arl would get sick, I don’t know.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Alistair frowned crossing his arms.

“Here… this is a letter from them,” Berwick said handing them a note, “it has instructions and everything… keep it! Do whatever you want with it!”

She took it from him and scanned it.

“I just thought I was serving the king and making a bit of coin on the side,” Berwick cried, “you have to believe me!”

“I think you should help defend Redcliffe tonight,” she said nodding to the bow and and quiver of arrows on his back.

“All… Alright, I’ll do it,” Berwick sighed, “thank you for your mercy, I won’t forget it!”

After he left, she slammed her fist into the wall. Anger radiated from her, and her hand ended up ‘slipping’ after talking to Lloyd.

“What… what’s wrong?” Alistair asked slowly.

“Everything,” she replied, “everything is wrong.”

“Are… are you okay?” Alistair asked.

“No,” she replied, “but I will be.”

And then she marched out of the door after giving Bella the tavern.

“Hey… Zevran?” she asked after regaining herself.

“Yes, my dear warden?” Zevran asked cheerily.

“Do you stare at everyone like this?” she raised a brow.

“Not everyone,” Zevran replied, “but a beautiful woman like yourself? Why not? I am sure you draw many stares, from men and even other women. Does this bother you?”

“No, I suppose not,” she replied with a huff of laughter, “but I highly doubt that others stare at me.”

“Oh? Perhaps you are not paying enough attention, then,” Zevran laughed, “but I shall keep that in mind, and perhaps redouble my efforts.”

“In what?” she raised a brow.

“There was a young elven dancer in Antiva City once,” Zevran remembered, “and I believe I actually managed to stare off all seven of her skirts. It’s a trick worth retrying.”

The shock caused her to falter, “what?”

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Zevran said glossing over her confusion, “perhaps we should move on? With you in front, of course.”

“By the way,” Leliana giggled, “you do draw a lot of stares. A proud elven woman? Not to mention how beautiful you are. Of course it would draw eyes to you.”

“We should finish helping the villagers prepare for tonight,” she said walking quickly, her face flushed without her quite understanding why.

She dealt with the knights quickly, thankfully they didn’t need much, just a morale boost that she had to persuade the Revered Mother to give.

So with a few hours left in the day they decided to sit around and chat.

“So, to recap,” she said, “Sten, Alistair, Zevran and I will fight up here with the knights, and Elissa.”

“And I and Leliana will fight with the villagers,” Morrigan sighed, “yes I know.”

“By the way Leliana?” she said turning to her fellow redhead while handing her flowers she had seen earlier, “aren’t these the flowers you were telling me about? Your mother’s favorite?”

“They are!” Leliana smiled smelling them, “it means so much to me that you remembered!”

“Of course I did,” she grinned.

“By the way, Alistair,” Zevran said turning to him, “what do you think of the Teyna of Highever?”

“W—what do you mean by that?” Alistair stuttered.

“Oh nothing, nothing,” Zevran mused, “just the way you look at her. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you fell in love at first sight!”

“I did not! I did nothing of the sort!” Alistair said indignantly.

“Oh?” she said sliding into the conversation, “I’m pretty sure you were ogling her.”

“Weren’t you super angry?” Alistair frowned.

“Oh, I am, I really really am!” she smiled as a dangerous look crossed her face, “I’ll tell you all about it later. But for now… It’s a good thing these things are already dead. Otherwise…”

“Right,” Alistair said leaning away from her, “creepy.”

“Oh?” Zevran said cheerily, “I think she’s completely and utterly gorgeous. And I did say that there were worse things than serving on the whims of a deadly sex goddess.”

She sighed in exasperation, before turning her head up to the sky.

“We should probably get in position,” was all she said.


	17. Assault

The last lights of day were beginning to fade out, and make room for the stars.

“Funny we’re fighting walking corpses,” she mused.

“What… what’s so funny about that?” Elissa asked.

“I’m really bad at dying,” she frowned.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Elissa asked Alistair.

“She gets like that sometimes,” Alistair shrugged.

“You have… interesting companions, Alistair,” Elissa remarked.

“Hah! You’re telling me!” Alistair laughed nervously.

Finally the last rays of light were swallowed up by the night.

And as night descended, so did the brunt of her anger.

The anger of being right: that Loghain, much to her suspicions, had been planning this for a long while now.

Her defensive strategy was apparently too good, and she ended up yawning in between waves.

“How are you yawning at a time like this?!” Elissa asked.

“Well… looking down at what’s happening in the village proper, they seem to be doing fine,” her anger was fizzling out quite nicely now too.

“What?!” Elissa shouted before taking a look as well.

“Why couldn’t you have arrived sooner?” Ser Perth said mournfully.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, “I was unconscious for two weeks after Ostagar, I hear, and then after that it took a week to get to Lothering, and then three weeks to get from Lothering to here.”

“It’s honestly a wonder she’s even still alive,” Alistair replied, “I thought she was a goner for sure, after the battle.”

“And I’ve certainly tried my hand at taking her life!” Zevran laughed.

“Alistair… where did you meet these people?” Elissa said.

“Well, Morrigan and her mother saved Kallian and me after the battle of Ostagar,” Alistair said thinking, “Leliana we found after a bar fight in Lothering, Sten we found in a cage in Lothering, and then Zevran tried to kill us on the road.”

“Hmmm…” she hummed staring at Elissa.

“W—what?” Elissa flinched.

“Your hair’s a pretty color,” she smiled, “it’s not one we see very often in the alienage.”

“Thank… you?” Elissa replied.

“You’re welcome,” she nodded before flying off back into combat.

“Right, so Kallian?” Alistair asked during another lull in combat, “why did you punch the wall earlier in the tavern?”

“Well… How would you feel if I told you…” she sighed, “that Loghain had been plotting what happened at Ostagar for a while?”

“He what!?” Alistair shouted, “and you KNEW?!”

“No, no,” she waved her hand around, before throwing a glance down to see how things were going down the hill, “more like… I had a feeling. A feeling that got confirmed after we talked with Berwick down there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me—” she cut Alistair off.

“You’re being attacked eyes forward,” she said.

***

“Dawn arrives, my friends, and all of us remain,” Bann Teagan said as they stood in front of the Chantry, “we are victorious!”

She could barely stifle her yawns, but she put on a serious face and somehow managed.

“And it is these good folk you see beside me that we thank for our lives today,” Bann Teagan said gesturing to them, making her stand a little straighter out of reflex, “without their heroism, surely we would all have perished.”

“I bow to you, dear lady,” Teagan said, “the Maker smiled on us when he sent you here in our darkest hour.”

“I only wish we could have come sooner,” she replied.

“Allow me to offer you this: the helm of Ser Ferris the Red, my great-uncle and Hero of Ferelden,” Teagan said holding a helm out to her, “he would approve of passing it to one so worthy.”

“Thank you Bann Teagan,” she replied, “I am honored.”

“Take it, then,” Teagan nodded, “and use it in good health.”

“Let us bow our heads and give honor to those who gave their lives in the defense of Redcliffe,” the revered mother spoke.

And suddenly she felt her body freeze, and her eyes rapidly looked through the crowd.

_No, no. We’re not in Denerim, Vaughan’s dead… Relax…_

She tried to catch her breath, thankful that all eyes were on the revered mother or Teagan, or whoever was currently speaking. And not her.

She stood back up straight as she felt attention shift back over to her.

“Now, we’ve no time to waste,” Teagan said turning to her, “meet me at the mill. We can talk further there.”

“Kallian,” Zevran said looking at her seriously, “are you alright, my dear?”

“What do you mean?” she asked smiling brightly.

“Nothing… No, my mistake,” Zevran replied, “you simply looked stunning in the morning light.”

“Ah ha ha,” she laughed monotonously, “let’s see… we should leave…”

“I’m coming,” Alistair said suddenly.

“And I should come along too,” Morrigan said, “if there is indeed magic at play you will need my expertise."

“And me!” Zevran said cheerily, “I find myself a little curious to see what the inside of the castle looks like.”

“Okay, everyone else go take a nap you lucky bastards,” she sighed.

She noticed Leliana pull Zevran to the side for some reason, but was honestly too tired to care. She grabbed something to eat from Bodahn and then quickly went up to the mill to wait for the others.

“Odd how quiet the castle looks from here, you would think there was nobody inside at all” Teagan said as she approached, “but I shouldn’t delay things further. I had a plan… to enter the castle after the village was secure.”

“Oh?” she asked.

“There is a secret passage here, in the mill, accessible only to my family,” Teagan replied.

“Makes sense,” Zevran said, “usually rich and powerful family's have escape routes so that they can leave when things get… complicated.”

“Perhaps I should have gone into the castle earlier,” Teagan sighed, “but I couldn’t— Maker’s breath!”

She looked behind them to see a woman dressed in fine clothes and a knight run up to them.

“Teagan!” the woman cried, “thank the Maker you yet live!”

“Isolde! You’re alive!” Teagan said in shock, "how did you…? What has happened?!”

“I do not have much time to explain!” Isolde said, “I slipped away from the castle as soon as I saw the battle was over, and I must return quickly.”

She watched the woman carefully.

“And… I need you to return with me, Teagan,” Islode said looking down, “alone.”

“You don’t seem to be very concerned for what’s happened to the village,” she said with an angry sigh.

_Typical nobility… Not caring about the people that get fucked over…_

“What?” Isolde turned to glare at her, “I… who is this woman, Teagan?”

“You remember me, Lady Isolde,” Alistair sighed, “don’t you?”

“Alistair? Of all the…” Isolde turned her glare to Alistair, “why are YOU here?”

“She certainly seems quite happy that the village was saved,” Morrigan said.

“They are Grey Wardens, Isolde,” Teagan replied, “I owe them my life.”

“Pardon me, I…” Isolde said, “I would exchange pleasantries, but considering the circumstances…”

“Please, Lady Isolde,” Alistair said, “we had no idea anyone was even alive within the castle. We must have some answers!”

“I know you need more of an explanation,” Isolde said before turning to Teagan, “but I… don’t know what is safe to tell.”

_Safe to tell? The only ones here are us, Teagan, and Isolde… Interesting_

“Teagan, there is a terrible evil within the castle, the dead waken and hunt the living, the mage responsible was caught but it still continues,” Isolde said, “and I think… Connor is going mad. We have survived but he won’t flee the castle. He has seen so much death!”

“Usually one would flee the second things started getting dicey like that,” Zevran remarked.

“You must help him, Teagan!” Isolde pleaded, “you are his uncle, you could reason with him. I do not know what else to do!”

“What about Arl Eamon?” Alistair asked, “if he still alive?”

“He is…” Isolde said, “he is being kept alive so far. Thank the Maker.”

“Kept alive? Kept alive by what?” Teagan asked concerned.

“Something the mage unleashed, so far it allows Eamon, Connor, and myself to live. But the others… were not so fortunate. It’s killed so many, and turned their bodies into walking nightmares!” Isolde replied, “once it was done with the castle, it struck the village!”

_The mage responsible for all this unleashed something that kept them alive? There’s more to this than that._

“It wants us to live, but I do not know why,” Isolde explained, “it allowed me to come for you, Teagan, because I begged, because I said Connor needed help.”

“’Tis most likely that this ‘evil’ she mentions is a demon,” Morrigan mused.

“I… I do not know,” Isolde replied, “oh Maker’s mercy! Could it truly be a demon? I can’t let it hurt my Connor! You must come back with me, Teagan! Please!”

“Tell me more about this mage you mentioned,” she said.

“He is an… infiltrator, I think— one of the castle staff,” Isolde said, “we discovered he was poisoning my husband. That is why Eamon fell ill.”

“If he was poisoning Arl Eamon,” she said narrowing her eyes, “why would he unleash something that kept you three alive?”

“I… I do not know,” Isolde replied.

“Eamon was poisoned?!” Teagan said in shock.

“He claims an agent of Teyrn Loghain’s hired him,” Isolde said, “he may be lying, however, I cannot say.”

“He’s not,” she replied, “Loghain’s been plotting this for a while.”

“That’s right!” Alistair said suddenly, “you said something about that earlier!”

“Mhm, and now we know what Berwick was being paid to watch for. Wonderful,” she sighed, “however, you are clearly not telling everything. And also, the truth.”

“I… I beg your pardon!” Isolde said angrily, “that’s a rather impertinent accusation!”

“Not if it’s the truth,” she replied narrowing her eyes.

“An evil I cannot fathom holds my son and husband hostage!” Isolde said, “I came for help! What more do you want from me?”

_She came for help and she’s only bringing Teagan, wonderful._

“Teagan, I do not have much time! What if it thinks I am betraying it?!” Isolde pleaded, “it could kill Connor! Please come back with me! Must I beg?!”

“And why just Bann Teagan?” she asked.

“For Connor’s sake, I promised I would return quickly and only with Teagan,” Isolde said, “Teagan, I know you could order your men to follow me when I return to the castle. But I beg you not to, for Connor’s sake!”

“Do what you will,” she sighed.

“The king is dead, and we need my brother now more than ever,” Teagan replied, “I will return to the castle with you, Isolde.”

“Oh, thank the Maker!” Isolde said, “bless you, Teagan! Bless you!”

“Isolde, can you excuse me for a moment?” Teagan said, “I need to make some arrangements before I return to the castle with you.”

“Please do not take too long!” Isolde said before leaving, “I will be by the bridge.”

“I have no illusions of dealing with this evil alone, you, on the other hand, have proven quite formidable,” Teagan said after making sure Isolde left, “here’s what I propose: I go in with Isolde, and you enter the castle using the secret passage. My signet ring unlocks the door.”

“Okay?” she replied, “then what?”

“Perhaps I will… distract whatever evil is inside and increase your chances of getting in unnoticed,” Teagan replied, “what do you say?”

“Of course we will,” Alistair said.

“Ser Perth and his men can watch for danger at the castle entrance,” Teagan said, “if you can open the gates from within, they can move in and help you.”

“I’ll wait with Ser Perth,” Elissa said suddenly, “sorry I’ve been waiting to speak with you.”

“Good,” Teagan replied, “I don’t think there’s anyone else who can help you.”

“Here is my signet ring,” Teagan said passing the ring to her, “it will open the lock on the door in the mill.”

“Understood,” she nodded.

“Whatever you do, Eamon is the priority here,” Teagan said, “if you have to, just get him out of there. Isolde, me, and anyone else… We’re expendable.”

“I don’t believe that at all,” Alistair said seriously, “we will rescue all of you, I promise.”

“The Maker smiled on me, indeed, when He sent you to Redcliffe,” Teagan said, “but I can delay no longer, allow me to bid you farewell… and good luck.”

“You as well,” she replied, before he left.

“Having permission to enter a secret passage?” Zevran said, “how exciting!”

“Who would build a tunnel,” Morrigan said, “that goes under a lake?!”

“Rich people,” she replied.

“By the way, Kallian?” Alistair asked.

“Hmm?” she hummed.

“You’re a woman, right?” Alistair said.

She almost tripped as they continued to walk.

“Of course she’s a woman Alistair,” Zevran frowned, “can’t you see how marvelous her breasts are?”

“Well, now I know where **your** eyes are looking,” she sighed angrily.

“So, what do women like?” Alistair asked.

“Men who don’t ask if they’re women,” she replied.

“Shall I give you some tips on how to woo women, Alistair?” Zevran asked.

“Considering how your attempts at wooing Kallian are going, no,” Alistair replied.

“I’m right here,” she said.

“Ouch, Alistair, you wound me,” Zevran said in mock hurt.

“By the way, what are your intentions with her?” Alistair asked.

“Still right here,” she sighed.

“Is this brotherly concern I detect? Or something else?” Zevran asked, “perhaps you are concerned for me, yes?”

“I am just asking what your intentions are,” Alistair said, “you did try to kill us all remember?”

“And now I owe her a blood debt, as she has spared my life,” Zevran replied, “it has brought us… closer together.”

“Has it? Has it really?” she asked.

“Are you smirking at me?” Alistair said.

“I assure you, ser, that I am not smirking,” Zevran replied, “no smirking here, no.”

“Well, just… watch yourself then,” Alistair said, “I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

“Morrigan, why are men so stupid?” she asked.

“Who can say, really,” Morrigan sighed.

“I once locked myself in a cage for an entire day… good times, “ Alistair said with a fond sigh, as they reached the dungeons of the castle.

“I will be sure to tell that to Elissa later,” she replied.

“Please don’t,” Alistair panicked.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t proudly admit it,” she sighed.

“Get away from me!” someone yelled, forcing them to run forward.

Someone inside a prison cell was being attacked.

“Who—Who’s there?” they said, “is there anyone alive out there?!”

_Must be the mage._

“Wait…” the man said as they approached, “you don’t look like the Arlessa’s guards, are you from outside the castle?”

_Didn’t the Arlessa say that only Eamon, Connor, and herself were being kept alive? How does she have guards who are alive? I’m too tired for this shit._

“Yes, and you must be the mage the Arlessa mentioned,” she replied.

“You’ve spoken to her?” the man said, “then you know what I did.”

“That you poisoned the arl,” Alistair glared.

“I’m not proud of my deed,” the man said, “poisoning Arl Eamon was what I was hired to do. Lady Isolde had no idea when she took me in to tutor her son, of course.”

She simply leaned back and watched him, and could tell Zevran was doing the same. Which made her frown. Maybe they **were** getting closer. No, no, no, that can’t be right. It must just be because they’re rogues, and both have backgrounds that call for them to be able to see peoples true intentions behind their words and their actions. Right? Right. That has to be it.

…Wait why was she trying to justify it?

“What about the walking corpses?” Alistair asked.

“I… I know it looks suspicious, but I’m not responsible for the creatures and the killings in the castle. I was already imprisoned when all that began,” the man replied, “at first, Lady Isolde came here with her men demanding that I reverse what I’d done. I thought she meant my poisoning of the arl.”

She was allowing Zevran to make her confused. Not a good thing. Definitely not.

“That’s the first I heard about the walking corpses, she thought I’d summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe,” the man said, “she... had me tortured. There was nothing I could do or say that would appease her. So they… left me to rot.”

She sighed. Isolde was **such** a typical noble woman.

“Why did you poison Arl Eamon,” Alistair glared.

“My name is Jowan, and I was instructed to by Teyrn Loghain,” Jowan replied, “I was told that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, that if I dealt with him, Loghain would settle matters with the Circle.”

“Settle matters?” she asked.

“You see, I’m a maleficar: a blood mage,” Jowan replied.

“You? A blood mage? Truly?” Morrigan said with a small measure of surprise, “I would never have guessed.”

He did look far too innocent to be a blood mage. His actions and words said as much. But then again, they probably don’t think of her as someone who killed an entire estates worth of guards and an arl’s son and his friends.

“A blood mage!” Alistair said, “well that isn’t good.”

“I dabbled in the forbidden arts, and they condemned me to death for it,” Jowan explained, “I thought Loghain was giving me a chance to… redeem myself… But he’s abandoned me here, hasn’t he? Everything’s fallen apart, and I’m responsible! I have to make it right somehow, I have to!”

“But why would Lady Isolde need a mage to tutor her son?” Alistair asked.

“Connor had started to show… signs. Lady Isolde was terrified the Circle of Magi would take him away for training,” Jowan replied.

“Connor? A mage? I can’t believe it!” Alistair said in shock.

“She sought an apostate, a mage outside the Circle, to teach her son in secret, so he could learn to hide his talent. Her husband had no idea,” Jowan replied.

“And Arl Eamon had no idea?” Alistair asked.

“No, she was adamant that he never find out,” Jowan explained, “she said that he’d do the right thing, even if it meant losing their son. And that infuriated her.”

_And now she’s truly lost him, at least if he were in the Circle she’d be able to send letters and visit. Now? Now he probably had to die._

“Is… Is Connor responsible for all this then?” Alistair asked.

Most definitely, it also explained much of Lady Isolde’s behavior and words earlier. Maker’s breath she was getting a headache.

“I only taught him a little,” Jowan replied, “but he’s still very young. He can barely cast a minor spell— never mind something more powerful. At least not intentionally.”

“There is a possibility that the boy did something and accidentally torn open the Veil,” Morrigan said, “and that would have allowed demons and spirits to come through and possess the dead.”

“I never meant for it to end like this,” Jowan said sadly, “I swear, let me help you fix it.”

“I don’t think there **is** a way to fix this,” she said finally breaking her silence.

“I say this boy could still be of use to us,” Morrigan said, “but if not, then let him go. Why keep him prisoner here?”

“Hey, hey! Let’s not forget he’s a blood mage!” Alistair said, “you can’t just… set a blood mage free!”

“Better to slay him? Better to punish him for his choices?” Morrigan asked, “is this Alistair who speaks, or the templar?”

_It’s funny how between the two of them, Morrigan’s always the one willing to allow people to redeem themselves, and Alistair isn’t. I’d bet he’d be appalled with what I’ve done as well. He’s too... Innocent of the world._

“I’d say it’s common sense,” Alistair said, “we don’t even know the whole story yet.”

“Give me a chance,” Jowan pleaded, “please!”

“So how will you fix this, exactly?” she asked.

“I’d… well, I’d try to save anyone still up there,” Jowan replied, “there must be something I can do.”

“And after that?” she asked.

“Afterwards? I assume I’ll be arrested, or executed. Or whatever people like me get,” Jowan replied, “I’m tired of running from the Circle. I need to account for what I’ve done.”

“Rather commendable,” she replied.

“I’m glad you think so,” Jowan replied, “so what now?”

“Well, he’s more honest and genuine than Lady Isolde was,” she sighed, “by miles.”

“What?! How can—” Alistair was cut off by Zevran.

“He is,” Zevran nodded in agreement, “he’s too… innocent to be able to lie well, though truth be told, that Lady Isolde was rather bad at lying herself.”

“Alright,” she sighed before letting him out, “make this right.”

“Are you sure that was the right thing to do?” Alistair asked.

“Who can say?” she replied, “until everything’s done and over with, who can really say?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Alistair sighed.


	18. Illness

_So this is what a dungeon looks like…_

“In another life I’m sure I’d have been left to rot in a dungeon…” she said as she looked around.

“For what exactly would **you** rot in a dungeon for?” Alistair asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, we,” she replied quickly, “we would have rotted in a dungeon.”

“For what?” Alistair asked again.

“Killing a king…?” she shrugged.

“I believe people who kill kings are swiftly executed, not left to rot in dungeons,” Zevran noted.

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied, “I’ve yet to kill a king.”

“So what would you truly be left to rot in a dungeon for?” Morrigan asked.

“I have problems with authority,” she replied.

“I’m finding that very hard to believe,” Zevran stated.

“Eh… I got better,” she shrugged.

After fighting more of the undead, they reached the first floor of the castle.

And her chest felt tight.

And in those putrid rotting faces, she suddenly saw the guards she killed.

_Not the time. Notthetimenotthetimenotthetime._

“Alistair,” she said, “you know this place better than the rest of us so tell us where to go.”

“Alright,” Alistair nodded, before leading the way.

They found the Blacksmiths daughter and sent her on her way before continuing forward.

After letting the knights and Elissa through the gate, they headed into the main hall together, the sight that greeted them made her sick.

“So these are our visitors?” the boy said in an unnatural voice, “the ones you told me about, Mother?”

“Yes, Connor,” Isolde replied in a shaky voice.

“And this is the one who defeated my soldiers?” Connor asked, “the ones I sent to reclaim my village?”

And she hardened her heart. Her choice was clear. Even if it made her feel sick. Even if there was another way. Even if Alistair hated her for it.

“Yes,” Isolde replied.

“Now it’s staring at me, what is it, Mother?” Connor asked, “I can’t see it well enough.”

“This is an elf, Connor,” Isolde replied, “you… you’ve seen elves before… we have them here in the castle.”

“Oh, I remember! I had their ears cut off and fed to the dogs!” Connor laughed, “the dogs chewed for hours! Shall I send it to the kennels, Mother?”

“Connor, I beg you,” Isolde pleaded, “don’t hurt anyone!”

“Mother? What… what’s happening?” Connor’s voice returned to normal, “where am I?”

“Oh thank the Maker! Connor!” Isolde said in relief, “Connor, can you hear me?”

“Get away from me, fool woman!” Connor’s voice distorted itself once more, “you are beginning to bore me.”

Her pain will be her own. She will live to regret this. As she already regretted so much else.

“Grey Wardens… please don’t hurt my son!” Isolde pleaded, “he’s not responsible for what he does!”

She was barely registering people talking right now.

“Connor didn’t mean to do this! It was the mage, the one who poisoned Eamon!” Isolde said, “he started all this! He summoned this demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!”

“And made a deal with the demon to do so?” Morrigan sighed, “foolish child.”

“It was a fair deal!” Connor shouted, “Father is alive, just as I wanted. Now it’s my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world! Nobody tells me what to do anymore!”

“Nobody tells him what to do!” Teagan laughed, “nobody! Ha-ha!”

“Quiet, uncle, I warned you what would happen if you kept shouting didn’t I? Yes, I did,” Connor said angrily, “but let’s keep things civil, this woman will have the audience she seeks. Tell us woman… what have you come here for?”

“We came to stop you,” she said firmly.

“I’m not finished playing! You can’t make me stop!” Connor snarled, “I think it’s trying to spoil my fun, Mother!”

“I…” Isolde said, “I don’t think…”

“Of course you don’t, ever since you sent the knights away, you do nothing but deprive me of my fun. Frankly, it’s getting dull,” Connor replied, “I crave excitement! And action! This woman spoiled my sport by saving that stupid village, and now she’ll repay me.”

Connor ran away, and a fight broke out.

“Teagan! Teagan,” Isolde said helping Teagan to his feet after the fighting finished, “are you alright?!”

“I am… better now, I think,” Teagan said a hand to his head, “my mind is my own again.”

“Blessed Andraste! I would never have forgiven myself had you died,” Isolde replied, “not after I brought you here. What a fool I am!”

She knew hardening her heart was useless. But she continued to try to do it anyway.

“Please! Connor’s not responsible for this!” Isolde pleaded, “there must be some way we can save him!”

“The only way to truly save him,” she replied, “would be through death.”

“I’m sorry my lady,” Jowan said, “but Connor has become an abomination. He is no longer your son.”

“You! You did this to Connor!” Isolde shouted.

“I didn’t! I didn’t summon any demon, I told you!” Jowan replied, “please… if you’ll let me help…”

“Help!? You betrayed me!” Isolde said angrily, “I brought you here to help my son and in return you poisoned my husband!”

“On Loghain’s orders,” she found herself saying.

“This is the mage you spoke of?” Teagan asked, “didn’t you say he was in the dungeon?”

“He was, I assumed the creatures had killed him by now,” Isolde seethed, “he must have been set free.”

“He was far more earnest about helping stop this mess than you,” she snarled, “by far.”

“How dare you! If this man hadn’t poisoned my husband,” Isolde snarled at her, “none of this would have happened! He should be executed!”

“Your secrecy made his actions possible, Isolde,” Teagan reminded her.

“But I…” Isolde said shocked.

“I know… what you must think of me, my lady,” Jowan said, “I took advantage of your fear, I’m sorry I… never knew it would come to this.”

“Maker’s breath we’re going to kill Loghain,” she sighed.

“Well, I shan’t turn away his help,” Teagan said, “not yet, and if Connor is truly an abomination…”

“He’s not always the demon you saw,” Isolde said, “Connor is still inside him, and sometimes he breaks through. Please, I just want to protect him!”

“I don’t think there **is** a protecting him at this point,” Elissa remarked.

“Isn’t that what started this?” Teagan frowned, “you hired the mage to teach Connor in secret… to protect him.”

“Sometimes the best of intentions can have the worst of outcomes,” she said solemnly.

“If they discovered Connor had magic, then they’d take him away!” Isolde argued, “I thought if he learned just enough to hide it, then…”

“And now the village is in shambles, everyone mourns the deaths of their loved ones, people recognized the undead faces of the people they loved,” she replied, “and then had to watch them die again…”

“The village was…” Elissa said, “a nightmare…”

“We were only there for a night,” Alistair nodded, “and it was… horrible.”

“Where did he go?” she asked.

“The fighting might have scared him into coming out again,” Isolde replied, “and so he ran.”

“So you’re saying that he may be vulnerable?” Teagan asked.

“I… perhaps,” Isolde said on the verge of tears, “is there… is there no other way?”

“Where is Arl Eamon?” Alistair asked.

“Upstairs in his room,” Isolde answered, “I think the demon has been keeping him alive.”

“So then you’re saying that if we destroy the demon…” Teagan frowned.

“Then my husband may perish,” Isolde said, “yes.”

“I’m not allowing the village be forced to withstand another night like that,” she sighed deeply.

“There is a way to save Connor,” Jowan said, “a mage could confront the demon in the Fade, without hurting Connor himself.”

“What do you mean? Is the demon not within Connor?” Teagan asked.

“Not physically, the demon approached Connor in the Fade while he dreamt,” Jowan explained, “and controls him from there. We can use the connection between them to find the demon.”

“You can enter the Fade, then?” Isolde said, “and kill the demon without hurting my boy?”

“No, but I can enable another mage to do so, it normally requires lyrium and several mages, but… I have blood magic,” Jowan replied, “lyrium provides power for the ritual, but I can take that power from someone’s life energy. But this ritual requires a lot of it, all of it, in fact.”

“So… someone must die?” Teagan replied, “someone must be sacrificed?”

“Yes, and then we send another mage into the Fade,” Jowan explained, “I can’t enter because I’m doing the ritual… Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything... It’s not much of an option…”

“It isn’t an option,” she replied.

“I disagree, I think we should do it,” Isolde replied, “let it be my blood. I will be the sacrifice.”

“What? Isolde, are you mad?!” Teagan said, “Eamon would never allow this!”

“Either someone kills my son to destroy that thing inside him,” Isolde replied, “or I give my life so my son can live. To me the answer is clear.”

“I agree,” she said, “the answer is clear.”

“Connor is blameless in this,” Isolde said, “he should not have to pay the price.”

“He won’t be,” she replied, “you will.”

“Save my son and you will be rewarded, that I promise,” Isolde said, “his life is worth more to me than anything. Even my own.”

“We’re not doing the ritual,” she said firmly, “we fight the demon here.”

“Please don’t! It isn’t his fault!” Isolde pleaded, “he just tried to help his father; why must he pay with his life?!”

“Do not make this any harder than it is, Isolde,” Teagan said solemnly.

“Who says she gets to decide? I’m Connor’s mother!” Isolde said angrily, “I’m the arlessa!”

She walked up to Isolde, and slapped her across the face.

“How dare—” Isolde glared.

“You are the worst parent,” she said darkly, “how do you expect your son to live with himself after everything that’s happened in the village? And then on top of that being the cause of his Mother’s death?”

“But I—” Isolde replied.

“And he won’t even be able to bring himself to commit suicide,” she continued, “because you sacrificed yourself in exchange for his life, he will grow to resent you. Are you truly willing to condemn him to such a life?”

“I…” Isolde froze in shock.

“Isolde… this is what must be done,” Teagan replied, “I don’t like it as any more than you do.”

“No!” Isolde cried, “I won’t let you do this! It isn’t right! It isn’t right!”

“You want to save him? You want to condemn his future to self hatred?” she said before turning her back, “fine. But I will have no part in it.”

“Please wait,” Teagan said stopping her, “go and do this, quickly, we must save Eamon and restore the castle. I will make Isolde understand.”

“I will as well,” Elissa nodded.

_Ahhh… I feel sick…_

“Understood,” she sighed.

_Isn’t that…_

A fight had led them into the Arl’s study, and atop the desk was an amulet riddled with cracks, it was engraved with Andraste’s holy symbol, and idly she remembered the conversation she had with Alistair about his Mother’s amulet. Absentmindedly she pocketed it and they continued through the castle.

“Go away,” Connor said as they approached, “she won’t like you being here. She’ll just try to hurt you.”

“It’s alright, Connor,” she said as she crouched down in front of him.

“The scary lady who speaks to me in my dreams, she’s quiet now, but she’s never very far,” Connor said, “I tried to stop her, but I can’t. She said she’d help Father, I didn’t think she’d hurt everyone, honestly I didn’t.”

“I know,” she replied quietly, “do you know what she is?”

“She’s a bad person,” Connor replied, “I heard her in my dreams, and then she was everywhere.”

“She is not a person,” Morrigan said, “she, is a demon.”

“We should end this quickly,” Zevran noted.

“Is that why you’re here?” Connor asked, “are you going to kill me? She said you would. What’s going to happen to me? When I’m dead?”

“You’ll return to the Maker’s side,” Alistair replied.

“He always sounds so scary,” Connor replied, “will he be angry with me? I hope not.”

“He won’t be,” she said reassuringly.

“Is it… going to hurt much?” Connor asked.

“No, I’ll make sure it’s quick and painless,” she replied.

“At least nobody will be hurt anymore, and maybe…” Connor replied, “maybe Father can be helped, that’s all I wanted… Just… Just do it then.”

“Then close your eyes,” she said and steeled herself.

“You’ll never win!” the distorted voice yelled, “you’ll never take him. He’s mine!”

And then Zevran pulled her away as they watched in horror as the demon took over his body.

She barely registered the fight, her body moving only by muscle memory. She watched lifelessly, as Connor’s form returned to normal, and heard Isolde shouting for them to stop. She could hear the conversation happening around her. But she took no part in it, faintly she heard Isolde beg her not to kill Connor.

“Like I said,” she replied, “I won’t have anything to do with you wanting to save his life.”

“Thank you, you won’t regret this” Isolde said, “Connor? Connor, can you hear me? It’s Mother.”

She barely acknowledged Isolde finally deciding that Connor couldn’t be saved, and left the room when the woman asked her too. The rest of the day passed in flashes that she could barely comprehend. Teagan asked what to do with Jowan, and she didn’t care, so she left it up to him. She assured Isolde that they’d seek out the urn, and then left to return to camp. She couldn’t stand being in that castle any longer, she couldn’t stand being in that village any longer.

***

“Watch out for Kallian,” Leliana had told him earlier in the day, before they left for Redcliffe Castle, “I don’t think that she is feeling well.”

And he agreed. He had seen her shuddering breaths while the revered mother spoke. And had noticed her slight reaction at being inside the castle. Something was clearly plaguing her. She had been at the forefront of his mind ever since that night where she’d smiled so sadly and mournfully.

He sighed as he watched Alistair berate her back at camp, she simply stood there accepting his anger until Elissa had showed up to check on them out of worry, and stopped him.

He watched her stalk out of camp and gave his daggers to Alistair before quietly going after her, making sure to keep silent.

He heard her before he saw her: shuddering breaths and the sounds of someone vomiting. She was crouched low on the ground leaning against a tree as she continued to vomit. More shaky breaths and when he noticed she was starting to stand back up, he retreated behind a few bushes, and walked back towards her, rustling them noisily.

“Ah, there you are my dear Warden,” he said as he met her part way.

“Oh, hello Zevran,” Kallian smiled, “what brings you here?”

“I was simply looking for you,” he replied, “I was a bit worried about you.”

“You don’t have to be,” Kallian said as she began to walk past him, “I’ll head back first.”

He stopped her, a hand on her arm, “Kallian, are you sure you’re alright?”

Kallian stopped and turned to him, a lifeless look on her face. He watched her draw one of her daggers and place it in his hands, closing his fingers around it. Confused he held it, before she lightly grabbed his arm and moved the blade so that it rested against her neck.

“If you kill me you just have to worry about Alistair,” Kallian said, “and then you can go back home.”

He stared at her for a second, and dropped the dagger before gently prying her hand from his arm.

“No, Kallian,” he said, “I will not be doing that.”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” Kallian laughed before leaning down to pick the dagger back up, “I was kidding anyway. Can’t end a Blight if I’m dead, right?”

He found himself kissing her when she stood back up, and idly noted that she’d rinsed out her mouth. When she was too surprised to push him away, he used the opportunity to deepen it.

Her hands pushed against his chest, and she looked at him with wide eyes, her face flushing an alluring deep red.

“Sorry, I uh…” he watched her panic before she fled.

And then he realized: she simply wasn’t allowing herself to like him.

Maybe they’d be able to be broken together.


	19. Campside Interactions Part 3

“Kallian,” Alistair said walking up to her the next morning.

“Yes?” she flinched.

“I… I wanted to apologize,” Alistair sighed, “it was wrong of me to lose it on you like that.”

“It’s alright Alistair,” she replied, “anyone would act like that, given the circumstances.”

“But still… I shouldn’t have,” Alistair ran his hand through his hair, “I’m such an ass.”

“It’s alright, though I did get you something,” she rummaged through the pouch on her belt.

“What? When and why did you get me something,” Alistair asked flabbergasted.

“Yesterday, and because I thought you needed it,” she said handing him the amulet.

“This… this is my mother’s amulet… It has to be but… but why isn’t it broken?” Alistair asked wonderingly, “where did you find it?”

“The arl’s study, I saw it on his desk,” she replied.

“Oh, the arl’s study?” Alistair said.

“It was while we were fighting, I wasn’t looting the castle, I assure you,” she replied.

“Then he must have… found the amulet after I threw it at the wall,” Alistair coughed, “and he repaired and kept it? I don’t understand, why would he do that?”

“Mayhaps you meant more to him than you think?” she hummed.

“I… guess you could be right, we never really talked that much, and then the way I left…” Alistair replied, “thank you, I mean it… I thought I’d lost this to my own stupidity. I’ll need to talk to him about this. If… when he recovers, that is. I wish I’d had this a long time ago.”

“That’s right Alistair, when,” she nodded, “think positively.”

“Did you remember me mentioning it?” Alistair asked, “wow, I’m more used to people not really listening when I go on about things.”

“Hmm?” she hummed, “did you say something?”

“Ho, ho, ho,” Alistair laughed monotonously, “see this gesture I’m making? Can you hear that?”

“Alistair?” Elissa asked yawning as she left his tent, “what are you doing?”

“Kallian, get that look off your face,” Alistair frowned.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about, Alistair,” Zevran purred walking up to them, “though I am surprised that you got Elissa into your bedroll before I got Kallian into mine.”

She quickly hid behind Alistair and glared at Zevran.

“You’re dangerous,” she frowned peeking out behind Alistair.

“Why?” Alistair asked, “Zevran what did you do?”

“I feel like my chastity is in danger,” she replied.

“Right… I don’t think I wanted to know that,” Alistair replied, “also Elissa and I didn’t do anything.”

“Then why was she in your tent?” Leliana asked.

“We were just talking!” Elissa said flushing deeply.

“Mmmmhmmm,” she hummed, “there’s nothing wrong with it you know.”

“Indeed!” Zevran said cheerily, “so why haven’t we?”

“Is there a reason you’re all squabbling so early in the morning,” Sten frowned at them.

“I was thinking we should stay here for a few days,” she said suddenly.

“Why?” Sten frowned.

“Not feeling too well,” she replied.

“Oh thank the Maker,” Leliana sighed, “I was going to ask if we could stay for a few days as well.”

“Ahh… you too huh?” she said turning to Leliana.

“Indeed,” Leliana replied.

“Here, Kallian, Leliana,” Morrigan groaned passing them both a cup of tea, “it helps.”

“You too, then?” she said turning to Morrigan.

“Wait why is everyone sick now?” Alistair asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Elissa laughed.

“Oh, right,” Alistair said suddenly, “Kallian, can I have a moment?”

“For why?” she asked.

“Not to yell at you more, I promise,” Alistair said reassuringly.

“Okay?” she replied.

“So, we’ll be going to Denerim in the future right?” Alistair asked.

“Yes, it would appear we will,” she nodded.

“Can we… would you mind if we looked someone up?” Alistair asked.

“What about Elissa?” she said with furrowed brows.

“No! No! Maker’s breath no!” Alistair shouted, “the thing is, I have a sister. A half-sister. I told you about my mother right? She was a servant at Redcliffe Castle, and she had a daughter… only I never knew about her.”

“Alright?” she replied.

“I don’t think she knew about me, either,” Alistair explained, “they kept my birth a secret, after all. But after I became a Grey Warden I did some checking and… well I found out she’s still alive. In Denerim.”

“Have you contacted her?” she asked.

“No, I thought about writing her, but I never did, and then we were called down to Ostagar, and I never got the chance,” Alistair sighed, “she’s the only real family I have left, the only family not also mixed up in the whole royal thing. I’ve just been thinking that… Maybe it’s time I went to see her.”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” she nodded.

“With the Blight coming and everything, I don’t know if I’ll ever get another chance to see her,” Alistair continued, “maybe I can help her, warn her about the danger, I don’t know.”

“We’ll do what we can,” she grinned.

“Her name is Goldanna and I think she remarried but still lives just outside the Alienage,” Alistair replied, “if we’re in the area, then… well, it’s worth a look.”

She smiled brightly and nodded.

_Goldanna? That shrew is his sister? Even everyone in the Alienage knows that she’s pretty bitchy… Uhh… Well, Alistair could use a reality check… We’ll just make this a lesson…_

***

Kallian was eye-ing him thoughtfully, as if she wanted to ask him a question but was worried about… something. Finally, it seemed like she’d made her mind up and came to sit next to him. Progress.

“What is wrong, my dear?” he asked her, “did you need something from me? Perhaps you’d like me to warm your bed?”

“No,” Kallian frowned, “I was just wondering if you enjoyed being an assassin.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he grinned, “there are many things to enjoy about being a Crow in Antiva?”

“Oh?” Kallian tilted her head to the side.

“Indeed! You are respected, you are feared, the authorities go out of their way to overlook your trespasses,” he replied, “Even the rewards are nothing to turn your nose up at. As for the killing part… well, some people simply need assassinating. Or do you disagree?”

“I do not, in fact disagree,” Kallian said thoughtfully.

There was a story there, surely. Though she probably wouldn’t tell. Kallian was a rather secretive minx, one who drew him in so completely it surprised him.

“I often find myself the instrument of fate, ending these lives for one necessity or another,” he continued, “I console myself with the notion that most of them had it coming.”

“Well, I’m sure there was a reason they needed to die,” Kallian shrugged, “whether the reason was justified or not… who knows, I suppose.”

“As far as enjoying the act of killing itself, why not?” he shrugged, “there is a certain artistry to the deed, the pleasure of sinking your blade into their flesh and knowing that their life is in your hands.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Kallian frowned, “I’m a little scared of getting used to it…”

“Well, it is more a sense of satisfaction, a feeling of power,” he shrugged, “does that make sense?”

He watched her lift her hand to her chin in thought. He was becoming quite efficient in recognizing her different mannerisms. How she held a hand to her chin in thought, how she tilted her head when curious about something, how she crouched down to talk to children, how she changed her stance and leaned back when talking to people taller than her instead of just raising her head, how her fingers moved when she was sewing, knitting, or picking locks.

“I suppose I can understand that,” Kallian said, “it is rather satisfying when it’s a job well done.”

“There are many things I did not enjoy about being a Crow, of course, having no choice, being treated as an expendable commodity, the rules… oh so many rules!” he said, “but simply being an assassin? I like it just fine, I will continue to do it, if I can, even if I am not a Crow. Honestly could you picture me doing something else?”

“Why not?” Kallian shrugged, “you can do whatever you like.”

“Whereas I am content merely doing what I happen to be good at,” he grinned, “it’s a talent not many come by honestly, I don’t see why I need not pursue it.”

“If it makes you happy,” Kallian smiled softly, “and there’s a market for it, then I don’t see why not.”

“Of course all these thoughts are moot. Chances are still good that you and I will perish,” he replied, “eaten by darkspawn or slain by the Crows at some point. Very gruesomely, I imagine.”

“Eh… I’ll make sure you survive this,” Kallian shrugged, “I’m expendable, you and everyone else however, aren’t.”

“I don’t consider you expendable,” he frowned, “and I wish that you wouldn’t either. Though that does bring up a question I have, if I may.”

“Of course,” Kallian replied, “what do you want to know?”

_A lot of things, though I think that many of them you wouldn’t say._

“So, here is the thing: I swore an oath to serve you, yes? And I understand the quest you’re on and all this is very fine and well,” he said, “my question pertains to what you intend to do with me once this business is over with. As a point of curiosity.”

Quite honestly? He was just hoping she wouldn’t tell him that she never wanted to see him again after all this was over and done with. You can’t woo someone if they never want to see you again, after all. He mostly wanted permission to stay by her side, something that shocked him just a bit.

“Does your oath expire then?” Kallian asked raising a brow.

“Not precisely, I said I would serve you until you saw fit to release me,” he replied, “one simply assumes that, once your Grey Warden business is finished, you would have no need of an assassin to follow you about. Am I wrong?”

He wanted to be wrong.

“I’m not holding you to any oath, Zevran,” Kallian frowned, “you can leave whenever you want.”

He never wanted to leave, so this was still going in his favor.

“Oh? I made the oath willingly, but if that’s how you see it then all the better,” he smirked, “for the moment it’s still best I stay, considering my standing with the Crows.”

Also because she was a puzzle he needed to solve, and whose affection he wanted, no, needed to earn.

“I have a feeling that that’s not the only reason you want to stay,” Kallian furrowed her brows.

“Well, let’s assume that I didn’t desire to leave, when the time came,” he said, “what then?”

“I suppose… I could always use a friend,” Kallian replied thoughtfully.

“Indeed? Hmm, I might even be glad to call myself such, come to think of it,” he replied, “but I’d much rather be able to call myself your lover, if possible.”

“Ah ha ha ha,” Kallian laughed monotonously, “why the question though?”

“It is good to know what my options might be,” he shrugged.

“I suppose you have a point,” Kallian nodded, “knowing your options is always nice.”

“Kallian!” Alistair called her, stealing her away from their conversation.

“What is it?” Kallian asked before apologizing to him and trotting over to Alistair.

“Zevran,” Leliana said to him filling the space Kallian was just in, “you do realize that Kallian is not the type of woman who simply sleeps with people casually, I hope.”

“So I’ve gathered,” he sighed.

“I also hope that you know,” Leliana frowned, “that if you hurt her I will kill you.”

“You wound me Leliana!” he said in mock hurt, “why would I do such a thing to our beloved, beautiful, and deadly leader?”

“I’ll be keeping my eye on you,” Leliana replied, “so you’d better be careful.”

Everyone was wary of his intentions with Kallian, it seemed.

“Yes, yes,” he sighed in exasperation, “why does everyone think I’m going to hurt her?”

Why can’t anyone be concerned for him? Honestly, at this point he was in more emotional danger than she was.

***

“So where do you think we should head to next?” he asked.

“Mmm,” Kallian hummed before retrieving a map from her pack, “I think we should probably hit up the Circle next, and then the Forest, since they’re on the way to Denerim.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” he nodded.

Part of the reason he called her over though was because he was worried about her getting close to Zevran, but a large portion of him was concerned about their plans.

“I’ll be staying here, in Redcliffe,” Elissa said, “to help guard the arl, and protect the village if necessary.”

“Alright,” Kallian nodded, “sounds good.”

He was a little disappointed that Elissa wouldn’t be joining them on the road, but what can you do?

“We’ll find a cure for Arl Eamon,” he said, “I promise.”

***

“What are you making, Kallian?” she asked sitting down next to Kallian, “that is a lot of yarn.”

“A giant blanket,” Kallian replied, “Alistair said we’ll have to go to the Frostback Mountains to petition the King of Orzammar. And I don’t handle well with cold.”

“I could always warm your bedroll for you if you’d like,” Zevran purred sitting on the other side of Kallian.

“Ah ha ha ha,” Kallian laughed monotonously, something they were getting used to.

“By the way Kallian,” she asked, “I was curious about something: did you always live in the Alienage? Was it very terrible?”

A soft smile decorated Kallian’s face, “some days were, but that’s just life. But I had my family, and there was a lot of joy, our community was always very tight knit and close.”

“That is good to hear,” she said, “I have never been to the Denerim Alienage, but I hear that life is hard and… there is so much squalor.”

“There is, a lot of squalor. I had to kill giant rats and rabid dogs to protect the community,” Kallian sighed, “though I imagine life is hard everywhere.”

“I suppose you have a point,” she replied, “but in Orlais most elven servants live in the homes of their masters, often in great wealth and luxury.”

“We’re expected to slink back to the Alienage at sundown,” Kallian frowned, “even my father, and he was head servant.”

“I’ve known elven servants with servants of their own,” she continued, “a well trained elven servant is highly valued in Orlais, they are nimble and dexterous and many people find them pleasing to look at.”

“It’s true, we are pleasing to look at,” Zevran nodded.

“I’ll agree with everything but that one point,” Kallian frowned, “I hate that people find us pleasing to look at.”

“Oh?” Zevran replied, “and why would that be?”

“Because of the things it leads to,” Kallian responded darkly.

“I did not mean it that way!” she panicked, “my words were clumsily chosen, I did not mean to offend. I… I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Kallian sighed, “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Still… you have given me a lot to think about,” she replied.

“By the way Zevran,” Kallian said, “why did you want to leave the Crows, exactly?”

“Well, now, I imagine that’s a very fair question, being an assassin, after all, is a living, at least as far as such things go,” Zevran replied, “I was simply never given the opportunity to choose another way. So if that choice presents itself, why should I not seize upon it?”

“You have a point,” Kallian nodded, “wait, you didn’t join by choice?”

Currently she was content to see how this conversation unfolded.

“Mm? To be truthful,” Zevran replied, “I didn’t even know the Crows existed when I joined them.”

“Did… did you just walk into a room, join a bunch of people, and then became a Crow?” Kallian’s brows were furrowed.

“No, no,” Zevran laughed, “I was but a boy of seven when I was purchased. For three sovereigns, I’m told. Which is a good price, considering I was all ribs and bone and didn’t know the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end.”

“I knew the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end when I was seven,” Kallian said thoughtfully.

“Oh?” she asked.

“My mother taught me,” Kallian replied.

“How interesting,” she replied, “is that who you learned to fight from?”

“Yes,” Kallian answered.

“Well, the Crows buy all their assassins that way, buy them young, raise them to know nothing else but murder,” Zevran continued, “and if you do poorly in your training you die.”

“And that works?” Kallian asked grabbing one end of her knitting and pulling it out with a frown.

“Of course,” Zevran replied, “you compete against your fellow assassins, and those who survive are rightfully proud of it.”

“I feel like… I would die rather quickly,” Kallian sighed.

“Oh? I don’t know about that,” Zevran replied, “I imagine that you would survive and become a Crow. You know how to kill efficiently, you know your way around poisons, you have a lot of qualities that’d make a good Crow.”

“Well, you told me the severance package is garbage anyway,” Kallian noted, “also… the first time I killed another person was… a few months or so ago.”

“WHAT?!” Alistair shouted, “a few months ago?!”

“Indeed,” Kallian nodded, “before I met Duncan, I had never killed another person. In fact before then the most I’d fought and killed were rabid dogs and giant rats.”

“Your life makes no sense,” Sten frowned, “you are the daughter of a servant and had never killed another person. Yet you were recruited to becoming a warrior of legend?”

“Eh… Trust me, this wasn’t how I imagined life would turn out three months ago either,” Kallian sighed.

“How did you expect your life to turn out?” Sten asked.

“I would have gotten married, had kids,” Kallian replied, “that kind of thing.”

“You certainly are a mystery,” Zevran noted, “in Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth, it gets you women… and men, or whatever it is you might fancy.”

“I prefer men,” Kallian replied, “though both my cousins prefer women.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I’m a man,” Zevran grinned, “but that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable, it’s a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining.”

“So what is it you fancy, Zevran?” she asked.

“I fancy many things, I fancy things that are beautiful, and things that are strong,” Zevran replied, “I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting. Kallian, would you be offended if I said I fancied you?”

“No, but I kind of figured that one out myself,” Kallian sighed.

“This is good to know,” Zevran chuckled, “as for what I’ll do in the future… presuming that there is one… I truly can’t imagine. It might be interesting to go into business for myself, for a change. Far away from Antiva, of course. For now I go where you go, naturally.”

“Somehow I wonder if that’ll ever change,” Kallian sighed again.

“Come, now, let us stop discussing the Crows,” Zevran said, “talking about them summons them, you know. Any Antivan fishwife could tell you so.”

“We don’t have anything to worry about, even if that were true,” Kallian replied.

“Oh?” Zevran asked.

“You’re already here,” Kallian answered.

“That reply was adorable!” she exclaimed noticing Zevran go stock still.

“Hm?” Kallian hummed questioningly.

“Why have we not made love yet?” Zevran finally asked.

“Ah ha ha ha ha,” Kallian laughed monotonously.


	20. Circle

To get to the Circle from Redcliffe, they went back towards Lothering. Though the refugees on the road told them that Lothering had been lost. Alistair decided to ‘tactfully’ ask Leliana how she felt about leaving Lothering behind, something that made Morrigan groan and comment on Alistair’s intelligence.

Upon reaching Lake Calenhad they immediately saw someone rifling around badly burnt corpses that were about the same size as Sten.

“Back off! I was here first!” the man glared as she approached.

“You haven’t seen a sword lying around here, have you?” she asked.

“Why, you looking to buy one?” the man asked.

“Where is my sword?” Sten glared from behind her.

“Ah… well… that’s let’s see I uh don’t know,” the man stuttered, “I got part of a glove the wolves didn’t chew too badly though! I think it was a glove anyway.”

“I’m not really in the market for trash,” she frowned

“I know, don’t say it, I got cheated,” the man sighed, “I knew the guy who was here before me, he sold me this spot. Said he’d found giants and all kinds of crazy valuables. He didn’t mention that he’d taken everything but the bones and the dirt already.”

“Sold you this spot?” she raised a brow.

“His name’s Faryn, squirrelly little bastard, if you ask me, which you didn’t but I said it anyway,” the man replied, “anyway he sold me looting rights to this spot. He was going to Orzammar, he said. I imagine he’s there by now.”

“We have to go to Orzammar soon, we’ll find your sword Sten,” she nodded.

“I look forward to having it in my hands once again,” Sten replied.

“If you see him, tell him I sent you!” the man said, “it’ll scare the piss out of him. Heh.”

“Hmm…” she hummed looking at the tower.

“What? Is there something wrong?” Alistair asked.

“Can you… Can you handle getting the mages yourself?” she asked.

“Why?” Alistair replied.

“Mmmm,” her eyes shifted to the side.

“What is the matter, my dear warden?” Zevran asked, “are you not good with magic? Don’t worry, my dear. The good thing about mages, I find, is that they die much like any other. You only need to worry about what happens before that.”

“That cannot be her problem,” Morrigan sighed, “she handled dealing with Connor just fine, remember?”

“Oh? Then what’s wrong?” Zevran asked.

She mumbled something quietly.

“What?” Alistair asked, “can you say that again?”

She mumbled it slightly louder.

“Kallian, we still can’t either understand or hear you,” Leliana frowned.

“I SAID I CAN’T SWIM!” she shouted.

“You… can’t swim?” Sten frowned.

“Yes I can’t swim!” she repeated, “the docks in Denerim aren’t exactly the best place for a delicate maiden okay?!”

“A delicate maiden? You? Delicate?” Alistair laughed, “I find that rather ha— OW!”

She punched Alistair in the gut.

“Kallian, my dear, if you fall out of the boat,” Zevran said reassuringly, “I promise that I will save you.”

“I’m counting on you then, okay?” she glared, “you’d better save me then, okay? If I drown I’m coming back to haunt you, okay?”

“You have my word,” Zevran grinned.

After talking to the templar on the docks they found out that apparently, the tower was currently off limits.

“Well, now that’s a shame, now isn’t it?” she said turning on her heel.

“Now hold on a minute, Kallian,” Alistair sighed putting a hand on her shoulder to keep her from leaving, “we have to see if we can help them in some way, also we need them, remember?”

“Mmmrrghmphmmrr,” she groaned. 

After persuading the templar to ferry them across the lake to the Tower, they got situated into the boat.

“The bottom, the bottom. I can’t see the bottom anymore,” she whimpered and clung onto Zevran, “I can’t see the bottom. Maker’s breath why.”

“As amusing as your reaction is, my dear warden,” Zevran said, “your grip is starting to hurt.”

“The ground feels wobbly, why does the ground feel wobbly?” she wondered after they finally got out of that Maker be damned boat.

“I believe what you are feeling is called your sea-legs,” Leliana offered.

“Sea-legs?” Alistair wondered, “but we just crossed a lake, shouldn’t they be called lake-legs?”

“More importantly, we should find out what’s happening inside the Tower,” Morrigan sighed.

“Right,” she nodded before they entered.

“…and I want two men stationed within sight of the doors at all times,” a man said, “do not open the doors without my express consent. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ser,” the templar he was talking to replied.

“The doors are barred,” Alistair noted, “are they keeping people out? Or in?”

“’Tis more likely that the answer is both,” Morrigan replied.

“Now we wait, and pray,” the man sighed.

“I assume you’re Greagoir?” she asked the man.

“We are dealing with a very delicate situation,” Greagoir replied, “you must leave, for your own safety.”

“I am not getting back on that boat without the mages aid in stopping the Blight,” she replied.

“I am weary of the Grey Wardens’ ceaseless need for men to fight the darkspawn,” Greagoir sighed, “but it is their right.”

“Well, the alternative is everyone getting killed by darkspawn,” Alistair replied.

“Be that as it may, you’ll find no allies here,” Greagoir said, “the templars can spare no men, and the mages are… indisposed. I shall speak plainly: the tower is no longer under our control.”

“How typical,” Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“Abominations and demons stalk the tower’s halls, the Circle is lost,” Greagoir replied, “the tower has fallen.”

“How did this happen?” she asked dread filling her heart.

_Flynne… Please tell me Flynne is alright…_

“We don’t know, we saw only demons, hunting templars and mages alike,” Greagoir answered, “I realized we could not defeat them and told my men to flee.”

“I need to get in there,” she said firmly.

“I have sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment,” Greagoir replied.

“The Right of Annulment?” she asked.

“The Right of Annulment gives templars the authority to neutralize the mage Circle,” Greagoir explained, “completely.”

“The mages are probably already dead,” Alistair said, “any abominations remaining in there must be dealt with no matter what.”

“I need to get in there,” she repeated.

“This situation is dire, there is no alternative,” Greagoir replied, “everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again.”

“The mages are not defenseless,” Leliana said, “some must still live.”

“If any are still alive, the Maker Himself has shielded them,” Greagoir replied, “no one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find… nothing.”

“When did you send word to Denerim?” Alistair asked.

“A while ago, and it worries me,” Greagoir answered, “the civil war has no doubt caused much turmoil. Has the Chantry been caught up in it? I can only guess. Denerim must have recieved our message— it cannot be much longer.”

“I need to get in there,” she repeated.

“People in there might need help,” Leliana replied, “you can’t just abandon them.”

“It is the innocent folk of Ferelden who matter, I would lay down my life, and the life of any mage, to protect them,” Greagoir replied, “no abomination must cross this threshold.”

“There is still so much going on that’s unexplained,” she said.

“I too would like to know how this started,” Greagoir sighed.

“I need to get in there,” she repeated, “there could be survivors, I can’t abandon them.”

“A word of caution… once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back,” Greagoir said, “the great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I have proof that it is safe.”

“That’s fine with me,” she said, “but I need to get in there.”

“Is there a reason you’re so adamant in getting inside the Tower?” Sten asked.

“Yes,” was all she said.

“I will only believe it is over if the first enchanter stands before me and tells me it is so,” Greagoir said, “if Irving has fallen… then the Circle is lost, and must be destroyed. May Andraste lend you her courage, whatever you decide.”

“Great, now let me in,” she said.

“As I recall, shutting the door and throwing away the key, was definitely templar ‘plan B’,” Alistair said.

“Open. The. Damn. Door,” she said to the guards standing watch.

“This is too cruel, I would not even subject an animal to such a terrible fate,” Leliana remarked.

“So the mages are all locked within?” Morrigan asked, “a fitting end for those who gave up their own freedom.”

“This is the prison for your mages? Ours is not so grand,” Sten said, maybe she’d ask him about it later, but right now they really needed to open the damn door for her.

“Hmmm,” Zevran hummed, “have you ever heard the saying ‘let sleeping abominations lie’? Now would be the time to consider it,”

“Oh no…” she whimpered seeing all the dead bodies made her break into a sprint, not caring if the others followed her or not, “Flynne!? Flynne are you there?!”

She saw someone she recognized defeating a rage demon.

“It’s you! No… come no further,” Wynne said, “Grey Warden or no, I will strike you down where you stand!”

“No!” a child shouted and ran to stand between them, “you can’t!”

“Oh thank the Maker,” she sighed collapsing to her knees, “Flynne… I was so so worried.”

“I’m okay Aunt Kalli,” Flynne replied crying as she hugged her, “it was so scary!”

“It’s okay,” she said reassuringly, “you’re okay, it’s going to be okay.”

“So… who’s the kid?” Alistair asked.

“Flynne was an orphan who lived in the orphanage in the Denerim Alienage,” Wynne explained, “Kallian spent a great deal of time there, from what I’ve been told.”

“You’re an orphan?” Leliana asked her.

“No, I just spent a lot of time at the orphanage helping out,” she replied.

“Aunt Kalli makes the best voices when reading us stories!” Flynne said, “she also cooks the best food! Though she’s not good at baking, but it’s okay because Aunt Shianni is.”

“We all have our weaknesses,” she sighed.

“Aunt Kalli, why are you here though?” Flynne asked, “are you here to save us? You always are.”

“Of course,” she laughed ruffling Flynne’s hair.

“Hello, Flynne!” Zevran said, and she had a bad feeling all of a sudden.

“Hello?” Flynne replied, “who are you?”

“My name is Zevran Aranai, Zev to my friends,” Zevran grinned, “and I am the lover of our dear warden.”

“You are not!” she shouted, “he is not!”

“No need to be shy about it,” Zevran purred.

“I know you’re lying,” Flynne said narrowing her eyes, “Aunt Kalli has way better taste.”

“Pffffffffffffffffffffft,” Alistair and Leliana broke out into a fit of laughter, causing Zevran to frown.

“Why are you here, Kallian?” Wynne asked, “the templars would not let just anyone by.”

“We came here seeking the aid of the mages against the Blight,” Alistair said.

“And you were told that the mages were in no shape to help you, I suppose,” Wynne sighed, “so why did the templars let you in? Do they plan to attack the tower now?”

“Don’t worry, luckily the Right of Annulment hasn’t arrived yet,” she replied.

“They sent for it, then,” Wynne sighed, “I feared they might have. What else could they do?”

“What is the Right of Annulment?” Flynne asked, “it sounds bad.”

“It is bad,” she replied, “very very very bad.”

“So Greagoir thinks the Circle is beyond hope… He probably assumes we are all dead,” Wynne frowned.

“They do,” Leliana replied.

“They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are, we have survived,” Wynne said, “if they invoke the Right, however, we will not be able to stand against them.”

“What happened here?” Alistair asked.

“Let it suffice to say, that we had something of a revolt on our hands,” Wynne sighed, “led by a mage named Uldred. When he returned from the battle at Ostagar, he tried to take over the Circle. As you can see, it didn’t work out as he had planned.”

“I hate that guy,” Flynne frowned.

“’Tis truly a wonder how everyone waits until there is a Blight to kill each other,” Morrigan said throwing her hands up in frustration.

“I don’t know what became of Uldred, but I am certain all this is his doing,” Wynne said, “I will not lose the Circle to one man’s pride and stupidity.”

“What do you intend to do?” she asked.

“I erected a barrier over the door leading to the rest of the tower, so nothing from inside could attack the children,” Wynne replied, “you will not be able to enter the tower as long as the barrier holds, but I will dispel it if you join with me to save the Circle.”

“Of course Aunt Kalli’s going to join you to save the Circle,” Flynne said, “Aunt Kalli and Aunt Shianni save everyone they can. She ran into a burning building to save me, four years ago. The Tabris sisters are known to be fearless.”

“You have a sister?” Leliana asked.

“No, Shianni’s my cousin,” she replied, “but we were always very close. Such that the Alienage called us the Tabris sisters, and with our cousin Soris, we became the Tabris Trio.”

“Uncle Soris isn’t very brave, though,” Flynne replied.

“He has his moments,” she sighed as she remembered her last day in the Alienage.

“Even if we cannot eliminate all the demons and abominations, together, we could lead the survivors out,” Wynne said, “once Greagoir sees that we have made the tower safe, I trust he will tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable.”

“Greagoir will only accept it if the first enchanter says so,” Alistair replied.

“Then our path is laid out before us,” Wynne nodded, “we must save Irving.”

“Hmmm… Morrigan, Sten, and Leliana will stay to help guard the children,” she said, “Alistair will be good to help clear the way, and I don’t trust leaving Zevran with Flynne.”

“What? Why not?” Zevran asked.

“Considering how you introduced yourself to her,” Leliana replied, “I don’t blame her.”

“Also, who knows what you’ll ask,” she frowned, “ah! Flynne! I need to ask you something.”

“Okay?” Flynne replied before she pulled the child to the side.

“Don’t tell them anything about me, okay?” she whispered.

“Okay, Aunt Kalli,” Flynne whispered back.

“Petra, Kinnon… help look after the others,” Wynne said addressing the two apprentices with her, “I will be back soon.”

“Wynne… are you sure you’re all right?” Petra asked, “you were so badly hurt earlier. Maybe I should come along.”

“The others need your protection more, I will be all right,” Wynne replied, “stay here with them, keep them safe and calm.”

“Have faith,” she smiled, “we’ll be all right.”

“Yeah trust them, Petra,” Flynne said, “Aunt Kalli’s super strong!”

“Your confidence is refreshing, though you should make sure it does not blind you to your weaknesses,” Wynne said, “if you are ready, let us go end this.”

“Of course,” she nodded firmly.


	21. Tower

“Here we are,” Wynne said as they approached the barrier, “I am somewhat amazed at myself for having kept it in place for this long.”

“You did what you had to,” she replied, “and you should rightly be proud of it.”

“It made me very weary at times,” Wynne replied, “but I had to stay strong, to keep us safe. Be prepared for anything, I do not know what manner of beasts lurk beyond this barrier.”

“Do not fear, my good lady,” Zevran said, “our Grey Warden is very good at fending off attackers. Speaking from experience here.”

“It’s kind of amazing really,” Alistair nodded, “being able to quickly adapt to any situation, that is.”

It’s probably just because she personally doesn’t care whether she lives or dies. But what can you do?

“Redcliffe was kind of weird, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“That too, but then there was the first time we were in a fight together too,” Alistair said, “it was kind of amazing, really.”

“Well, no time like the present, as the saying goes,” she shrugged.

“Alright,” Wynne nodded, “be on your guard.”

“A moment, please?” Petra said to her before they moved through the threshold, “I wanted to ask something of you.”

“Okay?” she tilted her head to the side.

“Look after her, will you?” Petra asked, “I don’t know if she’s up to this… Especially not after… I just worry.”

“Wynne’s a strong woman,” she said.

“Wynne’s the strongest person I know, but she’s only human,” Petra said, “this ordeal has been hard on her.”

“It’s been hard on all of you,” she replied.

“I was on my way down to the library when I heard screaming, and a demon came around the corner,” Petra explained, “its eyes were afire with evil… I was certain it was my death come upon me. I think I screamed; I was so afraid. And then Wynne was there, in front of me, shielding me. It was light and fire, blood and chaos… When it was over, the demon was dead but Wynne wasn’t moving either. I was so afraid she was… gone.”

“Hmm… What then?” she asked.

“As I moved to help her, she stirred and coughed,” Petra continued, “I don’t know what I would have done if she had died… for me.”

“She might’ve just had the wind knocked out of her,” she replied, “but I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Just look after her, all right? She might be completely fine, but then again, maybe she didn’t come away from that totally unharmed,” Petra said.

“I’m sure she’ll recover,” she nodded reassuringly.

“Thank you,” Petra said, “and thank you again for helping us.”

“Whoa,” she said after fighting the first abominations, “did not expect for them to explode after they died. Good to know.”

“’Good to know’? Kallian, why are you speaking of it like you’re commenting on the weather,” Alistair frowned.

“Ehhh… Who knows?” she shrugged.

“So are you a very religious man, Alistair? I am curious,” Zevran said, “I believe I heard you say you were raised in an abbey?”

“I was raised in a castle, I was schooled in the abbey,” Alistair corrected, “as far as being religious… I don’t know, not especially. What about you? Not in your line of work, I expect.”

“Why do you say that?” Zevran asked, “I happen to be quite devoted, in my way, as most Anitvans are.”

“Truly?” Alistair asked flabbergasted, “but you kill people. For money.”

“And I ask forgiveness for my sins from the Maker every chance I get,” Zevran replied, “what manner of monster do you think I am?”

“But… you ask forgiveness,” Alistair said trying to make sense of it, “and then you go right on with your sinning!”

“The Maker has never objected,” Zevran replied, “why should you?”

“I… have no idea,” Alistair replied confused.

“Well, there you go,” Zevran sighed, “perhaps you ought to think about asking for a little forgiveness yourself, hm?”

“A murder committed under duress is a sin on the one who ordered it,” she commented, “not the one whose hands carried out the deed.”

“’Under duress’?” Alistair said, “what about it is ‘under duress’?”

“The fact that the Crows would have probably killed him if he hadn’t?” she said.

“I suppose you have a point,” Alistair conceded.

“Kallian,” Zevran said, “why—.”

“No,” she replied cutting him off.

After reaching the second floor, the entire atmosphere seemed to change, it was colder and the feeling in the air was more… unsettling. They talked to a tranquil mage and found out about Niall, and the Litany of Adralla and then continued forward.

“So, Kallian, you ran into a burning building?” Zevran asked.

“Yes, I did,” she nodded, “I still have a few scars from it too. Most of it’s faded from some cream I make but still.”

“Can I see them?” Zevran asked.

“No,” she deadpanned.

“Why not?” Zevran asked, “if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

“I’m fine,” she replied.

“One day you’ll agree,” Zevran sighed.

“Stranger things have happened, it’s true,” she sighed.

“Oh? So then I do have a chance?” Zevran grinned.

“I suppose a slim chance, is still a chance,” she replied.

“A-ha! Progress!” Zevran cheered.

“You truly are an eternal optimist,” she sighed.

“Kallian,” Wynne asked finally, “where did you meet this man?”

“Loghain hired him to kill us,” Alistair replied, “but he failed.”

“So now he’s trying to sleep with her?” Wynne asked.

“Apparently,” Alistair sighed, “he’s been at it since day one… I think. Anyhow, I don’t think it’s working.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Wynne replied, “she’s got a better head on her shoulders than that.”

“Though Elissa seems to think it’ll happen,” Alistair said thoughtfully, “one day.”

“Oh? Elissa’s on my side?” Zevran asked, “things are certainly looking up!”

“Zevran… Why do I suddenly feel like you’ve redoubled your efforts?” she asked.

“Because he has,” Alistair replied.

Suddenly she shoved Alistair to the side and dodged a fireball. Quickly drawing her daggers, she hid in Alistair’s shadow. Alistair quickly recovering started to make as much of a distraction as possible as both she and Zevran snuck close enough to strike. Both she and Zevran took down a mage before the remaining one fell to the ground in surrender.

“Please, please don’t kill me!” the mage pleaded.

“I’m sure the people you killed didn’t want to die either,” she replied.

“I know I have no right to ask for mercy, but I didn’t mean for this death and destruction,” the mage said, “we were just trying to free ourselves. Uldred told us that the Circle would support Loghain, and Loghain would help us be free of the Chantry. You don’t know what it was like. The templars were watching… always watching.”

“The City Guard were also always watching,” she sighed heavily, “and we rioted fairly frequently. Never helped us any, but I suppose you wouldn’t’ve known until you experienced it yourselves. They were always… horrible.”

“Change rarely comes peacefully, Andraste waged war on the Imperium; she didn’t write them a strongly worded letter,” the mage said, “she reshaped civilization, freed the slaves, and gave us the Chantry. But people died for it.”

“Freedom is something you earn from blood, sweat, and tears, true,” she sighed again.

“We thought… someone always has to take the first step, force a change, no matter the cost,” the mage said.

“Nothing is worth what you’ve done to this place,” Wynne said.

“And now Uldred’s gone mad, and we are scattered, doomed to die at the hands of those who seek to right our wrongs,” the mage said, “but I… I would like a chance to atone for what I’ve done. Please… if you spare me I… I could escape and seek penance at the Chantry.”

“You know they’ll never take you,” Alistair said, “they’re very picky about who they let in. Harlots, murderers, yes. Maleficarum, oh no…”

“I just want my life,” the mage pleaded, “please.”

“Fight the darkspawn,” she said finally, “redeem yourself.”

“Fight the darkspawn? But I’m—” the mage said surprised.

“I can always withdraw the offer if you’d rather die,” she said cutting her off.

“No, no I’ll… I’ll help you,” the mage said, “I’ll… I’ll do anything. I don’t want to die.”

“This is unwise,” Wynne said, “you cannot trust her.”

“My body carries the scars of the riots in the alienage, hers doesn’t know them,” she sighed helping the mage stand, “I can’t fault a drowning woman for gasping for whatever breath she can. Had Loghain not caused all this… a great many things wouldn’t have happened.”

“Like what happened at Redcliffe,” Alistair sighed.

“Yes, like what happened at Redcliffe,” she nodded.

“I suppose it is not my place to question your motives,” Wynne sighed.

“What should I do now?” the mage asked, “am I to follow you?”

“Go help protect the others downstairs,” she sighed.

“Yes, I will pledge my life to your cause,” the made replied, “thank you for sparing me.”

She let out a loud groan after the mage was gone and roughly ran a hand through her hair, causing it to fall out of place and tangle. She resisted the urge to pull at it, just barely. Her thoughts went back to Shianni, and how she would always tell her not to pull at her hair.

“Ahhh… I want to see the sky,” she sighed dropping her hands back to her sides.

“The sky?” Zevran asked, “why do you want to see the sky?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said before tying her hair back into place, “come on, let’s move. I somehow doubt the tower’s going to save itself.”

They continued forward, since the tower was a circle, it wasn’t too hard to figure out where to go, so they simply kept passing through the halls and up the flights of stairs. She noticed a black grimoire that could’ve belonged to Flemeth at one point, and managed to pocket it without Wynne noticing.

“I wonder how it became like this,” she said approaching a sack of flesh, Alistair swatted her hand away from it when she moved to poke it.

“Don’t touch that,” Alistair frowned.

“But—”

“I agree with Alistair,” Zevran said, “don’t touch it. What if you get turned into a toad?”

“Can mages even actually turn people into toads?” she asked Wynne.

“Who’s to say we can’t?” Wynne replied.

“Right,” she said, “I’ll resist then.”

They killed a few more demons, some deranged templars, and passed more sacks of flesh that she had to resist poking. Until they came across a large abomination standing over a body.

“Oh, look, visitors,” a large abomination said, “I’d entertain you but… too much effort involved.”

“That’s Niall! What have you done to him?” Wynne glared.

“He’s just resting,” the abomination said, “poor lad, he was so very, very weary. You want to join us, don’t you? Wouldn’t you like to just lay down and… forget about all this? Leave it all behind?”

“What is this? Some ridiculous ploy to get us to let down our guards?” Zevran asked.

“Can’t… keep eyes open,” Alistair struggled, “someone… pinch… OW! Somehow… That didn’t…help…”

She slapped the back of Alistair’s head.

“Resist,” Wynne struggled, “you must resist, else we are all lost…”

She watched the rest of them fall to the ground, and stared at the abomination.

“Why do you fight? You deserve more… You deserve a rest,” the abomination said, “the world will go on without you.”

“Yeah, okay, a nap sounds nice, I guess,” she shrugged before her vision went black.


	22. Dreams

“Ah, there you are—” a specter in the shape of Duncan started to greet her, but she drew her blades and cut his head off before he finished his sentence.

“You picked poorly, you might’ve had a chance if you’d picked Nelaros, but… I’ll be with him soon, probably,” she said aloud, “now let’s see what kind of mischief I can get up to…”

Curiously, she hummed as she looked at a pedestal, there was only two paths open, one of them likely being where she was currently, the other being the only place she could go, probably. Shrugging she poked them both and was suddenly enveloped in a bright light.

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” a man said after the world stopped being an irritating bright, “are you a demon?”

“Niall?” she asked, “my name is Kallian, nice to meet you and all that.”

“I see… you’re like me, then,” Niall replied, “congratulations on getting out of that trap.”

“I’m guessing the other’s are here too then,” she sighed, “allowing myself to get caught was the smarter choice then.”

“Allowing yourself… You came here with others?” Niall said, “then, yes, they would be trapped. The demon traps everything that comes here in a dream it thinks they can’t—or won’t— try to leave.”

“Ahh… I’m a little worried then,” she groaned, “I really hope I don’t find Zevran doing what I think he might be…”

“I thought I’d escaped, but I’ve been wandering these empty, grey spaces for a lifetime,” Niall sighed.

“So how did you end up here, then?” she asked.

“Through sheer stupidity, or perhaps very, very bad luck,” Niall replied, “I was trying to save the Circle when I encountered the sloth demon. I expect our experiences were similar.”

“You have the Litany of Adralla, don’t you?” she asked.

“The Litany was our weapon against the blood mages’ domination, but it’s too late, everyone’s dead,” Niall said.

“No, not everyone,” she replied, “there’s hope yet.”

“This place drains you of everything… hope… feeling… life...” Niall sighed in defeat.

“It’s not too late, I’m sure,” she said.

“No, there is no way out of here, you think there might be, but you’d be wrong,” Niall frowned, “you see that pedestal there? I’ve studied the runes on it— runes that signify different islands of the sloth demon’s domain. The sloth demon itself is on the center island, but you can’t get there. The five islands around the center somehow form a protective ward. I thought I was getting somewhere when I figured that out, and I went to each island in turn only to have my hopes dashed.”

“Oh?”

“There’s always an obstacle, you’ll see the path but be unable to get to it,” Niall explained, “and it taunts you, and drives you mad.”

“Tell me about the protective ward,” she requested.

“I don’t know much, I… I think the sloth demon has placed lesser demons on each of the islands,” Niall replied, “I’ve seen them. They take different shapes, but they’re there. Defeating them may be the only way to reach the sloth demon.”

“I see,” she hummed.

“But you’ll have to get to them first,” Niall continued, “I… I couldn’t… I was too afraid to try.”

“Well fortune favors the bold, as they say,” she shrugged, “you mentioned obstacles?”

“Yes… obstacles and mad dream things— a river of flame before a portal, or a door that shows you freedom through a keyhole which no key will fit,” Niall replied, “I once found a passageway smaller than my hand with a mouse going to and fro through it. Silly thing fled before I could question it.”

She raised a brow and stared at him quizzically.

“Almost everyone here is a dreamer,” Niall explained, “except for the spirits and the demons, I suppose. Each dreamer may know things another may not. The mouse could have told me what lay beyond the tiny passage, or how to get there. Even how I might make myself small like him, and crawl through myself. And if one could become small enough to take one path, perhaps there are similar ways to walk the others.”

“What do you know about this sloth demon?” she asked.

“Not much, you couldn’t say we’re friends really,” Niall shrugged, “demons have their own hierarchies, they play their own games and mortals serve as… pawns, perhaps even bargaining chips. The demon keeping us here probably rules this entire section of the Fade. It’ll not let us go easily, if at all.”

“Well, we’ll see what happens,” she said, “messing with things couldn’t hurt.”

“Off you go then,” Niall sighed, “save the world.”

So she could go through the weird purple portals, but not the shadow-y ones. That was all well and fine to know but now there was a problem: how does one stop being a mouse? Is this how Morrigan feels when she shapeshifts? This was weird. Really really weird. Maybe if she… had people thoughts? No wait she was already having people thoughts. Hmm… Let’s see to turn into a mouse she had to think of herself as a mouse, so to turn back…

“Ah, yes, I see now,” she said patting down her body, “this’ll be a bit weird but, it’s better than the alternative.”

“Something happened, didn’t it?” Niall said in shock as she came full circle, “you look a little different. What happened?”

“Have you heard of the butterfly’s dream?” she asked.

“The one where you wonder whether you’re a butterfly dreaming that you’re a person, or a person dreaming that you’re a butterfly?” Niall asked.

“Yes, that one,” she nodded, “I became a mouse.”

“Did you? Did it help?” Niall asked, “I know I saw the tiny holes. Were you small enough to get through?”

“I was,” she nodded again.

“You’re… so much braver than I am,” Niall replied, “I was so sure it was impossible to get anywhere…”

“Give yourself some credit,” she replied, “you got this far, didn’t you?”

“I suppose so…” Niall nodded, “do you think you could learn other shapes? Maybe they could help you get to places you couldn’t otherwise…”

“It’s worth a shot,” she agreed before walking back over to the pedestal, “where do you recommend I go next?”

“Here,” Niall said pointing to the island to the left of the one they were currently on, “try here next.”

“Alright, be back when I can,” she nodded, before being transported away.

Well, now this one was even weirder. How was she supposed to figure this one out? It wasn’t just imagining she was a mage, it was more than that, hmm. Was she supposed to imagine herself as a spirit? How does one do that? She didn’t even know the senses a spirit would feel. Perhaps she was simply over thinking it… Ah yes definitely over thinking it.

“Niall, I couldn’t get to the demon on that island but… wait,” she said changing her form, “yes, I can see that door behind you.”

“Go see what lays beyond!” Niall said excitedly.

“I killed a demon,” she reported after returning.

“Then there is a way, look, the runes changed,” Niall said pointing at the pedestal, “I’ve been studying them some more, and I think your companions might be on these three. But you can’t get to them yet.”

“Hmm…” she hummed, “maybe if I can gain control of the islands around them?”

“That could be it,” Niall replied, before pointing to the island to the right of them, “try here next.”

“Understood,” she nodded.

And they continued like that, she freed other dreamers and progressed through the islands, teleporting back after she killed demons, and reporting her progress. She learned how to become a person on fire, which was weird, and a golem, which was weirder. All of this was weird. Finally, all three of the islands where Niall had said her companions might be were free, along with the center island where the sloth demon was.

She braced herself and moved to one of them.

“Hey! It’s great to see you again,” Alistair greeted her happily, “I was just thinking about you… isn’t that a marvelous coincidence?”

“Sure…” she nodded, she’d never seen Alistair so… innocently happy.

“This is my sister, Goldanna, these are her children, and there’s more about somewhere,” Alistair said, “we’re one big happy family, at long last!”

“Alistair… I hate to burst your bubble and all but… This is a trick,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Alistair asked.

“Well, Alistair, is your friend staying for supper?” Goldanna asked, and seeing her so… friendly was creepy.

“Say you’ll stay! Goldanna’s a great cook,” Alistair said excitedly, “maybe she’ll make her mince pie. You can, can’t you?”

“Of course, dear brother,” Goldanna smiled… which was unsettling, “anything for you.”

“I can’t and you shouldn’t either, Alistair,” she said. All this shit was weird, and even though she was dreaming she was starting to get tired of it.

“You’re acting really strangely,” Alistair frowned.

“Alistair, think about this, and how you got here,” she said, “think very carefully.”

“All right, if it makes you happy. I… it’s a little fuzzy, that’s strange,” Alistair said.

“Alistair, come and have some tea,” Goldanna said.

“No… wait… I remember a… tower. The Circle… it was under attack!” Alistair said, “there were demons. That’s all I really remember. Other than you hitting me.”

“The sloth demon,” she said, “do you remember that?”

“A—Are you saying this is a—a dream?” Alistair said fearfully, “but it’s so real.”

“Of course it’s real! Now wash up before supper and I—,” Goldanna was cut off.

“Something doesn’t feel quite right here,” Alistair said, “I… think I have to go.”

“She isn’t really your sister,” she nodded.

“She is… but she isn’t,” Alistair frowned.

“No! He is ours, and I’d rather see him dead than free!” Goldanna growled.

“G-Goldanna? I can’t believe it,” Alistair said after slaying the imposters, “how did I not see this earlier?”

“The demon probably did something to your head,” she shrugged, “don’t feel too bad. Wynne and Zevran are here somewhere too.”

“But it didn’t get you,” Alistair stated.

“He chose poorly,” she replied.

“Yes, well… Try not to tell everyone how easily fooled I was,” Alistair coughed.

“I was going to tell Morrigan all about it, though,” she frowned.

“Especially not her,” Alistair frowned, “are we going now? Wait, where are you going? What’s happening to me? Hey!”

She watched him fade away, lucky bastard. She sighed and braced herself again, she had no idea what to expect from Zevran’s nightmare, dream, whatever. She just hoped it involved wearing clothes.

“Maker forgive me, I failed them all,” Wynne said mournfully, “they died and I did not stop it.”

“They’re not dead yet,” she said, “the Circle can still be saved.”

“What about all this?” Wynne asked, “how can you say that when you are faced with this? Death, can you not see it? It’s all around us.”

“Yes, but so is life,” she stated, “you can’t have death without life, Wynne.”

“Why was I spared, if not to help them?” Wynne asked, “what use is my life now that I have failed in the task that was given me? Leave me to my grief. I shall bury their bones, scatter their ashes to the four winds, and mourn their passing ‘til I too am dead.”

“You have to fight this feeling,” she replied, “whatever it is.”

“Your blatant disregard for the souls of the dead strikes me as being utterly inappropriate,” Wynne frowned.

“Please think about what you’re doing here,” she said, “and why.”

“I do not know what you are trying to tell me,” Wynne scoffed, “why must you make this more painful? And where were you when this happened? I trusted you as an ally and you were nowhere to be found.”

“Maker’s breath Wynne, I’ve been jumping through Fade hoops,” she sighed, “concentrate, I’m the only thing that’s real here. Ignore everything else.”

“I do not know what this will accomplish, but I will do this,” Wynne sighed, “if it will satisfy you. It is… difficult… to focus. It feels as though something is… stopping me from concentrating. I have never had so much trouble.”

“Keep thinking,” she said

“Perhaps some time away from this place will help me think clearly,” Wynne said.

“It will,” she nodded, “being away from here should make you feel better.”

“Don’t leave us, Wynne,” one of the dead apprentices at her feet said, “we don’t want to be alone.”

“Holy Maker! Stay away, foul creature!” Wynne shouted.

“You have to defeat them to leave,” she said.

“Stay, Wynne. Sleep soundly in the comforting embrace of the earth. Do not fight it. You belong here, with us,” the apprentice said.

“No… Not yet, my task is not yet done…” Wynne said, “it is not time yet.”

“Yes, we still have work to do,” she nodded.

“Come… come away to your rest,” the apprentice said, before attacking.

“I think we’ll pass,” she frowned.

“Is it over? Thank the Maker for you,” Wynne sighed in relief once the fighting stopped, “wait… what’s happening? Where are you going?”

And she watched Wynne go the way of Alistair, and now she just had to do this one more time.

“I think I saw him flinch that time,” a voice said.

“Maybe,” another said, “we’ll make you scream yet, apprentice.”

“We’re not going to go easy on you, trust me,” the first voice said.

“No… I wouldn’t want you to hold back,” Zevran groaned, “I’d be disappointed if you…did.”

“This one has spirit,” the first voice said, “it’s a shame we have to break him.”

“Oh thank the Maker you’re all decent,” she sighed in relief.

“What… what are you doing here?” Zevran asked, “you’re not supposed to be… here…”

“Snap out of it,” she said, “it’s a dream.”

“I can’t… I need to stay strong. This is my test,” Zevran replied, “I am going to be a Crow… I need to show them I can tolerate… pain.”

“If you snap out of it, I’ll sleep with you,” she said.

“What!? Really?!” Zevran shouted excitedly.

_As if. But he doesn’t need to know that._

“Oh, I think he’s questioning us,” one of the voices said, “that’s a very, very bad thing to do, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, he will be punished for that,” the other voice said, “severely punished.”

She watched Zevran looking over the rack.

“Well! That was bracing!” Zevran said cheerily, “there’s nothing like a good racking, is there?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said, “I’ve yet to experience it, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Hmm? What are you doing?” Zevran asked, “where are you going?”

“Places,” she replied, “see you in a bit.”

She hopped back over to the island Niall was on, to tell him that she’d rescued her companions, and was about to go the way of fighting the demon on the center island, and she thanked him for his help.

“What do we have here?” the sloth demon laughed as she approached, “a rebellious minion? An escaped slave? My, my… but you do have some gall.”

“Actually I’m fresh out of them,” she replied, “gave them all to a Chanter back in Redcliffe.”

“Playtime is over,” the sloth demon replied, “you all have to go back now.”

_All?_

“Oh, here I am! And there you are!” Alistair said, “you just disappeared. Well, no matter.”

“How did I get here? What happened to all those luscious wood nymphs?” Zevran wondered.

“No clue,” she replied.

“Are you jealous, my dear warden?” Zevran asked.

“Nope,” she answered.

“You will not hold us, demon,” Wynne snarled, “we found each other in this place and you cannot stand against us.”

“If you go back quietly, I’ll do better this time,” the demon said, “I’ll make you much happier.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she replied before launching into an attack.

The demon shifted its form multiple times throughout the fight, but once the final blow was struck Niall came to her. Idly she noticed her companions leaving the Fade, as she held on to talk to Niall.

“You defeated the demon, I never thought… I never expected you to actually free yourself, to free all of us,” Niall said, “when you return… take the Litany of Adralla from my… body. It will protect you from the worst of the blood magic.”

“Your body?” she asked.

“I cannot go with you,” Niall shook his head, “I have been here far too long. For you it will have been an afternoon’s nap. Your body won’t have wasted away in the real world while your spirit lay in the hands of a demon.”

“I see…” she replied.

“I was never meant to save the Circle, or… survive its troubles,” Niall said, “I am dying. It is as simple as that. I do not fear what may come. They say we return to the Maker in death, and that isn’t such a terrible thing. My only regret is that I could not save the Circle… But you can.”

“No,” she shook her head, “I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”

“Take the Litany off my… my body, when you return,” Niall replied, “it is important!”

“I will,” she nodded, “you have my word.”

“I’m not… a hero, perhaps trying to be one was foolish,” Niall said.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” she replied, “ordinary people can do great things when they have to.”

“Dark times, greater acts of heroism, eh?” Niall chuckled, “you may be right. Before I was taken to the Circle, my mother said I was meant for greatness, that I would be more than my ancestors could have ever dreamed. I hope I haven’t disappointed her.”

“Your actions will have saved the Circle,” she replied.

“It is time for us both to be on our way,” Niall said, “remember the Litany of Adralla, the Circle is all that matters now.”

“Rest well, Niall,” she said.

“Thank you, and goodbye… friend,” Niall replied before she woke up.

“Kallian? Kallian!” Alistair shouted, “wake up!”

“What?” she grumbled.

“You weren’t awake when we woke up!” Wynne said, “we were worried!”

“I was listening to Niall’s last requests,” she sighed.

“I see… Then he is truly gone now,” Wynne sighed.

“Mmm,” she hummed before moving to take the Litany of Adralla.

“So, Kallian,” Zevran said as they continued on.

“Hm?” she hummed.

“I couldn’t help but notice… in the Fade,” Zevran began.

“Mmhmm?” she hummed.

“You said that you would sleep with me if I were to snap out of it?” Zevran asked with a hint of excitement.

“What?” she replied, “Zevran… Think carefully, would I really say something like that?”

“No… I… I suppose not,” Zevran sighed.

“Are those…dragons?” she wondered, to keep herself from laughing.

“Dragonlings, I believe,” Wynne replied.

“What are they even doing here?” she asked.

“I… I’m not sure,” Wynne frowned, “but we’re close to the top of the tower.”

“Understood,” she nodded.

“It’s a templar!” Wynnne gasped, “he’s still alive I think! We must help him!”

“Watch, now,” Alistair said, “I’m not falling asleep again!”

“You weren’t the only one who fell asleep, Alistair,” she sighed.

“Oh right, he got you guys too,” Alistair replied, “much better.”

“We have the Litany now though,” she noted, “also I fell asleep on purpose, I wasn’t sure what’d happen to you guys if I’d just stabbed him and then went on my merry way.”

“Oh because that’s very believable,” Alistair rolled his eyes.

“Who’s the one who saved your ass in the Fade?” she asked, “hmmmmmmm? Do I have to tell Morrigan you.know.what?”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Alistair sighed.

“Do you?” she asked, “do you really? I had to jump through so many Fade hoops, I turned into a fucking mouse Alistair, A MOUSE! And a weird spirit thing! And a guy that was on fire! And a golem, though that was actually kind of cool…”

“It could still be a trap, I hope you’re aware,” Zevran said.

“If so, then it’s a better trap than yours,” she said.

“You’re a very cruel woman, my dear,” Zevran sighed.

“This trick again? I know what you are,” the templar said glaring at them as they approached, “it won’t work! I will stay strong!”

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

“The boy is exhausted, and this cage…” Wynne said inspecting the cage, “I’ve never seen anything like it. Rest easy, help is here.”

“Enough visions. If anything in you is human, kill me now and stop this game!” the templar shouted, “you broke the others, but I will stay strong, for my sake… for theirs… Filthy blood mages! Getting in my head… I will not break! I’d rather die!”

“Calm down,” she said soothingly, “you’re safe now.”

“Silence! I’ll not listen to anything you say! Now begone!” the templar shouted, “still here? But that’s always worked before. I close my eyes but you are still here when I open them.”

“We’re real, and we’re here to help,” Alistair said.

“Don’t blame me for being cautious, the voices, the images… so real,” the templar said, “did Greagoir send you? How… how did you get here?”

“He sent us in a sense,” she replied.

“Good… kill Uldred. Kill them all for what they’ve done!” the templar shouted, “they caged us like animals… looked for ways to break us. I’m the only one left. They turned some into… monsters… and there was nothing I could do.”

“Where are Irving and the others?” Wynne asked.

“What others? What are you talking about?” the templar asked.

“Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred,” Wynne replied, “where are they?”

“They are in the Harrowing Chamber… The sounds coming out from there… Oh, Maker…” the templar replied.

“Then we need to hurry,” Alistair said, “they’re probably in trouble.”

“You can’t save them, you don’t know what they’ve become,” the templar glared.

“We can’t just kill all of them,” she replied.

“They’ve been surrounded by blood mages whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts,” the templar said mournfully.

“His hatred of mages is so intense… the memory of his friends’ deaths is still fresh in his mind,” Alistair said.

“He’s suffered pain and anguish like few have had to endure,” Wynne said, “that and his lust for revenge have confused the issue.”

“Do not presume to judge me, mage!” he glared, “I am thinking clearly— for perhaps the first time in my life.”

“I don’t know about that,” she mused, “I mean I don’t have an uncurable hatred for humans.”

“Why would you hate humans?” Alistair asked.

“Reasons,” she shrugged.

“To ensure this horror is ended… to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live, you must kill everyone up there,” the templar said.

“No can do,” she said, “I’ve enough innocent blood on my hands, and I’d honestly rather not get any more.”

“Thank you,” Wynne said, “I knew you would make a rational decision.”

“I can’t let Flynne down,” she replied, “she’s got high hopes for me.”

“Rational? How is this rational?” the templar glowered, “do you understand the danger?”

“I know full well the dangers of magic, but killing innocents because they might be maleficarum is not justice,” Wynne said, “I know you are angry…”

“I hate to cut this conversation short, but we’ve got people to save,” she said stepping into the conversation.

“My cage is Uldred’s doing… or one of his mages,” the templar said, “once they’re dead, I will be free.”

“Well, stay safe then,” she replied.

“Maker turn his gaze on you,” the templar said, “I hope your compassion hasn’t doomed us all.”

“Me too!” she said cheerily before moving forward.

_Bright. It’s so bright. Why is it so bright yet also still so dreary? All this shit makes no sense._

“Ah… look what we have here. An intruder,” a man she recognized said, “I bid you welcome.”

“Ohhh it’s you!” she slammed her fist into her palm, “I remember you from Ostagar.”

“Ah, the insolent elf who wanted to play at strategy, then, is it?” the man said.

“Yes, that’s me,” she sighed, “just another insolent elf.”

“Care to join in our… revels?” Uldred asked.

“I think I’ve had enough revelry for the day, sorry,” she said, “so I think we’ll just kill you, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Fight if you must,” he hissed, “it will just make my victory all the sweeter.”

“Don’t forget the Litany,” Wynne whispered, “it will thwart Uldred’s attempts to control the mages and win this fight for us.”

“Whoa,” she said staring at the demon in front of her, “I just got the biggest case of deja vu.”

“Me too,” Alistair sighed, “me too.”

“Same plan?” she asked handing Wynne the Litany.

“Yeah, I guess,” Alistair sighed, “though I doubt this will be easier.”

“True true,” she nodded turning her back to Uldred to put some distance between them as Alistair moved into position.

“What are you two—” Wynne started to say, before she had to quickly use the Litany.

“Now!” Alistair yelled, and she sprinted up once more leaping to his shield and then to the pride demon’s head.

“I forgot how shitty it was up here,” she said.

“Just hurry up and kill it!” Alistair yelled.

“Easy for you to say!” she yelled back, fighting to stabilize herself on top of the demon’s head.

She noticed Wynne have to use the litany again, as Zevran and Alistair fought the other abominations running amok. Finally she drew her weapon and plunged it into the demons eye, rolling off his body as he collapsed forward, and she stayed seated on the ground for a bit.

“Kallian, are you okay?” Alistair asked holding out a hand to her.

“Just… dizzy,” she said on shake-y feet, “that was a lot more wobbly than I remember it being.”

“Yes, well hopefully this time we don’t almost die on top of the tower again,” Alistair sighed, “I don’t think Morrigan’s mother will make a special trip out here to save us again.”

“I don’t think so either,” she replied, “also, thanks for the assist.”

“Don’t mention it,” Alistair replied, “is this just going to be our go-to when we fight ogres and such?”

“I don’t see why not,” she shrugged, “it’s worked so far.”

“Yes, well,” Alistair sighed, “I really don’t want to be the reason you were eaten by an ogre.”

“I know the risks,” she replied.

“I think I would like to try that, one day,” Zevran said, “it looked like great fun.”

“Irving! Are you alright?!” Wynne shouted running to the Grand Enchanter.

“Maker, I’m too old for this,” Irving replied, “I’ve been… better… but I am thankful to be alive. I suppose that is your doing, isn’t it, Wynne?”

“I wasn’t alone, I had help,” Wynne replied.

“The Circle owes both of you a debt we will never be able to repay,” Irving nodded, “come, the templars await. We shall let them know that the tower is once again ours.”

“Very well, do you need help?” Alistair asked.

“I’ll need you to guide me down the stairs… Ah, curse whoever insisted the Circle be housed in a tower,” Irving sighed, as they began their descent.

They met back up with Cullen, free of his cage, and she kept an eye on him, as they continued back down.

“Ah, so you’ve returned,” Morrigan said, “we were beginning to wonder.”

“We got forced into a nap,” she replied.

“A nap? You took a nap?” Sten asked.

“Forced into a nap,” Alistair replied, “not our choice. There are better places to sleep than surrounded by sacks of flesh.”

“Aunt Kalli!” Flynne shouted flying into her legs.

“Careful, careful,” she said quickly refinding her balance before hugging the child.

“How were things down here?” Alistair asked.

“Fairly peaceful,” Leliana replied.

“Irving? Maker’s breath, I did not expect to see you alive,” Greagoir said.

“It is over, Greagoir,” Irving nodded, “Uldred is dead.”

“Uldred tortured these mages, hoping to break their wills and turn them into abominations,” the templar they escorted down said, “we don’t know how many of them have turned.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous!” Irving frowned.

“Of course he’ll say that! He might be a blood mage!” the templar glared, “don’t you know what they did? I won’t let this happen again!”

“I am the knight-commander here,” Greagoir said, “not you, Cullen.”

“Order has been restored to the Circle,” she said.

“We will rebuild, the Circle will go on,” Irving said, “and we will learn from this tragedy, and be strengthened by it.”

“We have won back the tower,” Greagoir said, “I will accept Irving’s assurance that all is well.”

“But they may have demons within them, lying in wait!” Cullen shouted.

“Enough! I have already made my decision,” Greagoir said, “thank you, you have proven yourselves to be friends of both the Circle, and the templars. I promised you aid, but wit the Circle restored my duty is to watch the mages. They are free to help you, however. Speak to Irving. For now I will have to oversee a sweep of the tower. There may be some survivors and we should do our best to tend to them. Please, excuse me… and Irving… it is good to have you back.”

“Ah, I’m sure we’ll be at each other’s throats again in no time,” Irving nodded, “here we are, the tower in disarray, the Circle nearly annihilated… though it could have been much, much worse. I am glad you arrived when you did, it’s almost as though the Maker himself sent you.”

She could practically hear Morrigan’s eyes rolling.

“Glad to help,” she nodded.

“From what Greagoir said, it seems that you came here seeking allies,” Irving noted, “the least we can do is help you against the darkspawn. I would hate to survive this only to be overcome by the Blight. You have my word, as first enchanter. The Circle will join the Grey Wardens in the fight.”

“Thank you,” she nodded.

“Irving, I have a request: I seek leave to follow the Grey Wardens,” Wynne said speaking up.

“Wynne… we need you here,” Irving said, “the Circle needs you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but the Circle will do fine without me,” Wynne replied, “the Circle has you. This woman is brave, and good, and capable of great things. If she will accept my help, I will help her accomplish her goals.”

“We would be honored to have you join us, Wynne,” Alistair said.

“You were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had elsewhere,” Irving said.

“Why stay when I can be of service elsewhere?” Wynne chuckled.

“Then I give you leave to follow the Grey Wardens,” Irving said, “but know that you always have a place here.”

“Aunt Kalli!” Flynne shouted, “can you stay the night?”

“Uhh…?” she looked to Irving.

“I’m sure you could all use some rest, after that ordeal,” Irving chuckled, “though I’m not sure if you’d want to sleep here.”

“I will stay at the inn on the other side of Lake Calenhad,” Sten said.

“Okay,” she nodded, “we’ll be back across the lake tomorrow.”

“You’d better,” Sten grunted.


	23. Campside Interactions Part 4

Kallian was really good with children, she noticed. She could clearly see why Flynne idolized her. Currently she and the remaining children were asleep in one big pile after she’d told them a random story to help them sleep after all they’d seen. Her only complaint would be Zevran constantly hovering around her, as well as the fact that she seemed far too innocent for her own good. Which lead her to wonder how old Kallian truly was, it seemed much of her life was a mystery, even to the companions who’d been with her the longest. Even Alistair has no idea under what circumstances she was recruited into the Grey Wardens, but she had a feeling that there was a deep sadness within her. Perhaps, in time, she’d be willing to talk about it. But for now, it seemed as if her pain was far too brutal, and far too recent for her to even think about.

***

“You’ll visit, right?” the child, Flynne asked Kallian as they prepared to leave the next morning.

“Of course!” Kallian replied brightly, “when I can.”

“It’s a promise, okay?” Flynne said.

“It is,” Kallian smiled softly.

It seemed that he was going to need to teach her how to swim, he doubted she’d bring him along to ensure she wouldn’t drown on all the boat rides across the lake. A thought that wasn’t too bad, her clinging to him, drenched in water as he taught her to swim… Now there was a good use for his imagination.

“What are you thinking about?” Leliana asked him.

“Oh nothing, nothing,” he replied, “don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Alistair frowned, “your expression says we should worry about it.”

“No no, I assure you,” he replied, “you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Something makes me doubt Kallian would agree,” Morrigan frowned, “that is quite the lecherous face you have.”

“Flynne, do you remember what I told you the day you left the alienage?” he heard Kallian ask.

“Ummm,” Flynne hummed in thought.

“That no matter what, we’re connected by the sky,” Kallian smiled, on the face of their fearless leader was currently the face of a mother.

“Oh yeah!” Flynne grinned, “no matter what we’re under the same sky!”

“So, think of me when you see the sky,” Kallian replied.

“Though there was another thing you told us,” Flynne said in thought, “because I think of you every time I burn my tongue.”

“Drink hot coffee, drink hot tea,” Kallian said, “burn your tongue and think of me?”

“Great,” Alistair said, “now I’m going to think of you whenever I burn my tongue.”

“It’s pretty catchy right?” Kallian replied, “my mom said it to me.”

“I think I’ll have to remember that one,” Leliana hummed.

***

He was glad they left Darrian on the other side of the lake, Kallian probably wouldn’t be able to handle the extra rocking of the boat. Though he did wonder why she chose to cling to Zevran. Maybe Elissa was right: it’d happen eventually. He didn’t understand women.

Well, their next destination was already set, but it would take three weeks at the least to get to the Brecilian Forest, and then who knows how long to find the Dalish tribe.

“By the way, Kallian,” he said, “how much do you weigh?”

“…” Kallian, Leliana, Wynne, and Morrigan stared at him in shock.

“Ah… Alistair,” Zevran said, “that is not something you should simply ask a woman.”

“Why?” he asked, “I was just curious, she’s just so light. I bet I could throw her across a battlefield.”

“Oh,” Kallian replied, “I thought you were calling me fat.”

“No! No! Maker no!” he said flustered, “I would never call a lady fat.”

“But you would think it?” Leliana frowned, “you’re lucky your awkwardness adds to your charm.”

“So tell me, Morrigan, was the Tower of Magi everything you thought it would be?” he coughed.

“Abominations running rampant? Templars ready to slaughter every mage is sight?” Morrigan sighed, “yes, it rather met all my expectations.”

“You don’t think you might have been better off getting your training there?” he asked, “instead of whatever your mother taught you?”

“You’re right,” Morrigan replied sarcastically, “my mother didn’t nearly have as many abominations running about. That certainly would have improved my education.”

“There isn’t always abominations running about,” Wynne replied, “these were… hard times. For all of us. Why must you speak to others this way?”

“I owe you no explanation,” Morrigan scoffed, “there is no writing on my forehead that say” ‘please, guide me!’”

“You are traveling with us,” Wynne said, “it behooves you to be civil.”

“You are too transparent, old woman,” Morrigan replied, “do not bring up our companions, when all you wish is for me to be civil with you. I am not one of your Circle apprentices to have on your every word. I am not Alistar, who sees in you a surrogate mother.”

“Hey! I’m right here!” he shouted.

“No, it is obvious you are nothing like Alistair,” Wynne frowned.

“Morrigan is civil,” Kallian said, “I enjoy talking to her. Oh! That reminds me. We got forced into a nap and I had to jump through Fade hoops. It was weird.”

“Oh?” Morrigan asked, her interest piqued.

“I had to turn into different things,” Kallian replied, “I thought of you whenever I did, our chats about shape shifting really helped me out there. So thank you.”

“You are most welcome,” Morrigan replied smugly.

***

“What was life like in the Kocari Wilds?” Kallian asked sitting next to me in my tent, “did you grow up there?”

“Why do you ask me such questions?” she asked, “I do not probe you for pointless information, do I?”

“You could, if you wanted,” Kallian replied, “though, some things are… off limits to what I want to say.”

“Oh?” she asked, “and what topics are those?”

“Just… how I became a Grey Warden,” Kallian sighed, a devastatingly sad look on her face.

“I see, what is it you asked?” she replied, “if I ‘grew up’ in the Wilds? A curious question. Where else would you picture me?”

“I don’t know,” Kallian admitted honestly.

“For many years it was simply Flemeth and I,” she explained, “the Wilds and its creatures were more real to me than Flemeth’s tales of the world of man. In time, I grew curious. I left the Wilds to explore what lay beyond. Never for long, brief forays into a civilized wilderness.”

“And you kept going back?” Kallian tilted her head.

“Would you not do the same? Your world is an unforgiving and cold place,” Morrigan replied, “the Wilds I hail from is home to me, and I a natural denizen.”

“It really is cold and unforgiving,” Kallian replied, a sad look on her face, “but I don’t… I don’t think I can go home again.”

“For all that I had been taught, however,” she continued, this was likely a sore subject for her and she did not want to pry, “the truth of the civilized lands proved to be… overwhelming.”

“Oh?” Kallian hummed.

“I was unfamiliar with so much, so confident and bold was I,” she explained, “yet there was much that Flemeth could never have prepared me for.”

“I can imagine,” Kallian said wryly.

“I rather doubt that,” she replied, “only once was I accused of being a Witch of the Wilds, and that by a Chasind who happened to be traveling with a merchant caravan. He pointed and gasped and began shouting in his strange language, and most assumed he was casting some kind of curse upon me. I acted the terrified girl, and naturally he was arrested.”

“Ohh, nice thinking,” Kallian grinned.

“Men are always willing to believe two things about a woman,” she explained, “one, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive.”

“I know how that feels,” Kallian sighed.

“I played the weakling and batted my eyelashes at the captain of the guard,” she continued.

“Child’s play,” they said in unison.

“The point being that I was able to move through human lands fairly easily,” she said, “whatever humans think a Witch of the Wild looks like, ‘tis not I.”

“I wish I could’ve moved through human lands that easily,” Kallian sighed.

“Not that I did not have trouble, there are things about human society which have always puzzled me,” she said, “such as the touching— why all the touching for a simple greeting?”

“Like a handshake?” Kallian asked, “normally people don’t shake each others hands unless they know them.”

“To begin with, yes,” she frowned, “what is the point of touching my hand? I find it an offensive intrusion.”

“As you should,” Kallian frowned, “strangers shouldn’t be shaking your hand for no reason.”

“There were many nuances that Flemeth could never tell me of,” she continued, “when to look into another’s eyes, how to eat at a table, how to bargain without offending… none of these things I knew.”

“I guess it would be hard to teach you that in the environment you grew up in,” Kallian replied thoughtfully.

“I still do not understand it all, truth be told,” she sighed, “but then I gave up long ago any hope of doing so. When I returned to the Wilds last, I swore to Flemeth that I had no intention of leaving again.”

“Yet here you are,” Kallian replied.

“Yes,” she sighed again, “here I am.”

***

“So, Zevran,” Alistair started one night during dinner.

“Yes? What is it Alistair?” he replied.

“Those designs you have all over your back…” Alistair continued.

“They’re called tattoos,” he grinned, “and I have them in many more places than just on my back, my friend.”

“Err… right,” Alistair said, “I hear that someone gets those by having needles put the ink under your skin?”

“A great many needles, amongst other things,” he replied, “yes, that would be true.”

“But didn’t that hurt?” Alistair asked.

“Oh, yes, yes, but it is not so bad in truth,” he replied, “if you like, I could give you one. I learned a bit of the art myself in Antiva.”

“Oh, no,” Alistair replied, “no I don’t think so.”

“Come, it will just be a small one, perhaps the symbol of the Grey Wardens?” he grinned, “something manly! Where are my needles?”

“You know, Zevran,” Leliana spoke up, “Kallian has tattoos too.”

“Oh?” he turned his attention to her in curiosity.

“They are a lovely crimson that matches her pale skin,” Leliana replied.

“Can I see?” he asked her.

He watched as Kallian rolled her eyes, she turned her torso and lifted the hem of her tunic and pulled her arms out of her sleeves, letting it drape over her front.

Along with a large fading burn scar, were a cluster of crimson flowers that draped over her shoulder from her back.

“My cousin decided that we needed to get matching tattoos one day,” Kallian sighed with a sad smile, “she bothered me every ten minutes for an hour and a half. So we got flowers in the others favorite color. Her favorite color is red, so mine are in red. My favorite color is blue, so hers are in blue.”

“Why did your cousin want to get matching tattoos?” Alistair asked as Kallian put her tunic back on.

“It was after the riot that orphaned both Flynne and my other cousin, Soris,” Kallian explained, “all it takes is one moment for your entire life to change. Mementos can also be destroyed in the blink of an eye. So to make sure we’d always have something to remember the other by in case one of us died, we gave each other tattoos.”

“I see…” he hummed, “that’s rather morbid, along with sentimental of you.”

“I was always weak towards her,” Kallian shrugged, “we were always there for each other, no matter what.”

“And then you got recruited into the Grey Wardens,” Wynne said.

“Yes,” Kallian replied.

“Is there any reason why your favorite color is blue?” Leliana asked.

“For me… Blue is the color of freedom,” Kallian replied, “who knows what lays beyond the vast blue sky, who knows what lay beyond the seas. For me it’s a color of limitless potential.”

Something about this conversation struck a cord within him. Kallian was still a mystery, but he was beginning to understand her. Though she grew up in a family who loved each other, her life had still not been easy.

“Kallian,” Wynne said, “I’ve a question if you don’t mind.”

“Okay?” Kallian replied.

“How old are you?” Wynne asked.

“I am an eighteen year old child,” Kallian replied.

“EIGHTEEN!?” Alistair shouted.

“Yes,” Kallian replied, “you have a problem with that?”

“No, no,” Alistair said holding his hands up in defense, “I was just surprised, even I’m twenty-one.”

“And yet Kallian is far more mature than you,” Morrigan replied.

“I’m fairly certain you would be considered an adult at eighteen,” Wynne said.

“No, in my community you’re not considered an adult until you get married,” Kallian replied, “and I haven’t gotten married. So I’m a child. Don’t worry though, I understand that we have different societal values.”

“I see…” Wynne replied.

He wasn’t sure what to think of this. He was seven years older than her, and much of her was innocent. But there was a pain in her that resonated with his own so completely he wasn’t sure how to feel.

***

“Have you ever been hunted by the templars?” Alistair asked, “I mean you and your mother are apostates, after all.”

“My mother has been hunted from time to time, yes,” she glared, “by templar fools like you, which should tell you how successful they generally were.”

“Hey!” Alistair frowned.

“Flemeth made a bit of a game of it, in fact,” she continued, “the templars would come again and she would look at me and smile, and say that the fun was to begin once more.”

“A game?” Alistair frowned.

“They came with as much swagger and arrogance as they did self-righteousness,” she replied, “pity them if you wish, for they held none for us. Flemeth would warn them once. ‘Twas a warning they inevitably failed to heed.”

“They never do,” Kallian sighed.

“After that, the true game began: often Flemeth would use me as bait,” she said, “a little girl to scream and run and lure the templars deeper into the Wilds and their doom.”

“You and your mother are horrible people,” Alistair frowned.

“Or, they should’ve heeded the warning,” Kallian replied.

“Didn’t they find you?” Leliana asked.

“Sometimes, eventually,” she shrugged, “thankfully the Wilds is a vast place. Once they found us, Flemeth would simply move us elsewhere and we would be lost within the forest once again. I did not understand the danger we faced until I was much older. I had never heard of ‘apostates’ or ‘maleficarum’. I think that my mother made it fun so that a child did not learn to fear, and I think that it was necessary.”

“I do as well,” Kallian said, “it’s much easier to run from something if you don’t cower in fear of it. Fear can make you do stupid things, get you caught in corners and the like.”

“There are no trials for apostates, no prisons, no mercy,” she said, “there are only absolutes, so only survival matters.”

“Kallian,” Wynne said, “how can you agree with this?”

“Because life in the Alienage made me subject to seeing all the injustices done to us,” Kallian replied, “sure there was laughter, happiness, and love, but there were also their negatives. You can’t have one without the other.”

“If the Wilds have taught me anything, ‘tis this: first you must survive,” she stated, "do you disagree?"

“I don’t,” Kallian yawned.

“Of course I disagree,” Alistair frowned, “you and your mother killed templars.”

“They chose their lot in life,” Kallian replied, “they were aware of the dangers.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Alistair frowned.

***

“Kallian,” she heard Sten call her, “there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?” she asked.

“You said that you are eighteen, correct?” Sten asked.

“I am,” she nodded.

“If you are eighteen, how do you have such a myriad of skills?” Sten asked.

“Mmm… A lot of my skills play into each other,” she replied, “making potions, poisons, and cooking are similar, so as I get more skilled in one I get more skilled in the others. Sewing, knitting, embroidery, and lock picking all require deft hands, so those are connected as well. Needing to watch a room full of kids and making sure everyone doesn’t get hurt is also harder than being on a battlefield. It’s all about knowing what skills play into each other, to get the most out of them.”

“I see…” Sten replied.

***

“Hey Wynne,” Kallian said as she approached, “how are you feeling?”

“Oh, it’s been a long day,” she sighed, “rest… rest would be welcome. But I am fine. Just a little…weary.”

“It was a long day,” Kallian nodded.

“As you may have noticed,” she replied “I’m no spring chicken.”

“You’re rather sprightly for your age though,” Kallian said.

“Thank you, you’re very kind to say so,” she smiled, “but in all honesty, I do not know how many years I have left in me. I have lived for such a long time. But there’s always something else to do, and I have to keep going in order to do it. I think I will be glad when I am… done.”

“I feel the same,” Kallian sighed.

***

“Hey Zevran,” Kallian called.

“Hm? What can I do for you my dear?” he asked, “do you need me to warm your bed?”

“No,” Kallian sighed, “I was just curious about your adventures.”

“My adventures? I’m hardly an old man just returned from across the ocean, am I?” he chuckled, “should I shake my fist at nearby children while I talk about the good old days?”

“Well,” Kallian frowned, “you came all the way from Antiva. You’ve certainly experienced more things than me.”

“Falling down a flight of stairs is an adventure. Falling into someone’s bed? Also and adventure,” he smirked, “but I am assuming what you’re looking for are professional anecdotes.”

“Mhm,” Kallian hummed in agreement.

“Let’s see… My second mission ever for the Crows was a bit intriguing,” he recalled, “I was sent to kill a mage who had been meddling in politics.”

“How?” Kallian looked baffled.

“How should I know?” he shrugged, “I got the impression it involved sex… but then I get that impression about most everything. Odd, really.”

“Yeah… I’ve noticed that,” Kallian sighed.

“As it turned out, the mage in question was quite a delightful young woman,” he said, “long, divine legs, as I recall. I caught her in a carriage on her way to escape to the provinces.”

“But her most defining feature were her legs?” Kallian asked.

“Oh? Are you jealous?” he purred, “you do not need to be jealous of dead women, my dear.”

“I am not,” Kallian sighed.

“After I killed her guard, she got down on her hands and knees and begged for her life… rather aptly, I might add,” he recalled, “so I joined her in the carriage for the night and left the next morning.”

“And she didn’t try to kill you?” Kallian asked.

“Well, yes, twice actually,” he replied, “then she decided to try and use me, instead. The woman had actually convinced me to speak to the Crows on her behalf. What can I say? I was young and foolish at the time. Then, as I was kissing her good-bye to return to Antiva City, she slipped on the threshold and fell backwards out of the carriage. Broke her neck. Shame really, but at least it happened quickly.”

“That’s… rather anticlimactic,” Kallian replied.

“I was a bit unimpressed by the development, at first,” he sighed, “then I found out that she had told the driver to take her to Genellan instead. She had planned to lose me in the provinces. I would have looked very foolish to the Crows.”

“I bet,” Kallian sighed.

“As it was, my master was very impressed that I had done such a fine job of making it look like an accident,” he continued, “the Circle of Magi was unaware of foul play, and everyone was happier all around.”

“These sorts of things happen to you often?” Kallian asked.

“Like being spared by a benevolent mark who then helps me escape from the Crows?” he chuckled, “yes, it does seem to happen now and again, doesn’t it?”

“Well, you’re free to finish the job any time you want,” Kallian shrugged.

“No, no,” he sighed, “braska we already talked about this my dear.”

“Someone like me deserves no less than death…” he heard her mumble.

It made him curious, but it seemed her pain was recent, while his was two years old. He planned to tell her about it in the future one day, maybe that will help in getting her to open up to him.

“It was after that when I learned that one needn’t let a pretty face go to your head,” he said, “professionalism was key. That’s my moral of the day, you see.”

“A valuable lesson,” Kallian nodded, “well, except for the fact that you’re here. Constantly berating me with compliments.”

“That’s true!” he chuckled, “but I think that’s enough tale-spinning from me, for the moment. Talking about the mage has made me a bit nostalgic, I’m afraid. Ah, the good old days.”

“Okay now you’re sounding like an old man,” Kallian sighed.

He watched as she was called away from him by Alistair. There was so much about her that he wanted to know, it was surprising, really. But every time he learned something new, it just endeared her to him even more.


	24. Dalish

“So Kallian,” Wynne decided to ask, “how did you become a Grey Warden? If you don’t mind me asking.”

A question that seemed to be on the minds of the rest of their companions.

“I had a bad day,” Kallian replied.

“You became a Grey Warden because you…” Alistair tried to make sense of this statement, “had a bad day?”

“Yes,” Kallian nodded.

“What happened?” Leliana asked, “how was this day so bad that you became a Grey Warden?”

“I… had my heart broken into so many pieces it may as well have turned to dust,” Kallian frowned.

“Say his name and he shall meet his end,” he commented.

“Don’t bother,” Kallian sighed, “both him and the woman he loved are dead.”

“Did you kill them?” Leliana asked.

“I may as well have,” Kallian frowned.

“What was he like?” Alistair asked.

“He was… genuine,” Kallian smiled sadly, “but the him I was in love with was the him in love with her. I knew that well enough.”

“Do you regret his death?” Wynne asked.

“…Very much so,” Kallian replied, “but there’s nothing I can do about it now. They’re already dead. The world is made for the living, as I was once told.”

There was definitely something more to this, he thought about all the times where it seemed like she’d wanted to simply die. And this story made sense. 

Honestly, at this point, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted from her. At first it was mere physical attraction, but as he learned more and more about her, it intrigued him. Her pain resonated deeply with his own.

Though for some reason, her talking about a past love irritated him, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

“What was she like?” he asked.

“She was bright, cheerful, and kind. If you were in trouble, she’d run to your rescue… Fire in her eyes like a hero from a story book,” Kallian replied sadly, “they were perfect for each other.”

“How did they die?” he found himself asking.

“That… isn’t my story to tell,” Kallian replied.

***

“Kallian,” she said, “may I have a moment?”

“Yes?” Kallian answered as she followed her to her tent far away from the others.

“We have an opportunity that I believe we should take advantage of,” she said, “to the point: my mother was once divested of a particular grimoire by a most annoying templar hunter. It occurred long before I was born, but even Flemeth speaks of the loss with great rage.”

“Oh?” Kallian hummed.

“With the Circle of Magi in such disarray, it occurs to me that this might be the perfect time to recover the tome from their possession, for surely it eventually ended up in their hands,” she explained.

“You mean this tome?” Kallian asked and procured a black grimoire from her pack.

“What is this?” she asked in surprise, “the grimoire? Ever since we discovered the condition of the mage’s tower, I had wondered if it might be recoverable… but I had yet to speak of it to you. How fortunate that you found it on your own.”

“I thought it looked like something that might belong to Flemeth,” Kallian replied, “so I thought you might be interested in it.”

“You have my thanks,” she said, “I will begin study of the tome immediately.”

“You’re welcome,” Kallian grinned.

“I do not intend to squander this opportunity to learn more than Flemeth wished me to know,” she said excitedly, “this should be… interesting.”

***

“Kallian,” she called gesturing to the inside of her tent, “I wanted to tell you something.”

“What’s on your mind Leliana?” Kallian asked, following her inside.

“I… lied to you, you know?” she said as they settled down to sit next to each other, “about why I left Orlais. I didn’t feel like talking about it then. What happened to me… maybe it will affect us, maybe not, but you should know.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with sharing,” Kallian replied, “there are some things I don’t want to talk about either…”

“It’s alright,” she replied, “you have been a good friend, and I want you to know.”

“Okay,” Kallian nodded.

“I came to Ferelden and the Chantry because I was being hunted, in Orlais,” she said.

“Hunted?” Kallian tilted her head.

“I was framed, betrayed by someone I thought I knew and could trust,” she recounted, “Marjolaine— she was my mentor… and friend. She taught me the bardic arts— how to enchant with words and song, to carry myself like a high-born lady, to blend in as a servant. The skills I learned, I used to serve her. My bard-master, because I loved her, and because I enjoyed what I did.”

“How did she betray you? If you don’t mind me asking,” Kallian said.

“You can say it was my fault: there was a man I was sent to kill,” she said, “I was to bring Marjolaine everything he carried. I don’t know who this man was. She gave me a name and a description, and I hunted him down. I found documents on his body— sealed documents. My curiosity got the better of me. Something told me that I needed to now what was in those letters. Marjolaine… had been selling all kinds of information about Orlais to other countries— Nevarra and Antiva, among others. It was treason.”

“Oh dear…” Kallian winced.

“My life as bard taught me that my loyalties should be kept fluid. My concern was not that she was a traitor, but that her life would be in danger if she were caught,” she continued, “Orlais has been at war with so many countries. It takes a harsh view of such things… as I later discovered. I should have left well alone, but I didn’t. I had to tell Marjolaine I feared for her life. She brushed aside my concern, she admitted her guilt but said it was in the past. That is why the documents had to be destroyed, she said.”

“Oh no…” Kallian frowned.

“I believed her. I kept believing up till the moment they showed me the documents, altered by her hand to make me look the traitor,” she said sadly.

“What happened then?” Kallian asked.

“The Orlesian guards… they captured me… did terrible things to make me confess and reveal my conspirators,” she recalled, “it was a traitor’s punishment I endured, and at the end of it, all that awaited me was eternity in an unmarked grave.”

“How did you get out?” Kallian asked.

“The skills Marjolaine taught me were good for something at least,” she replied, “I broke free when I saw the opportunity. I did not seek Marjolaine out, if she thought I was coming for her, she would have me caught again.”

“And so you came to Ferelden…” Kallian replied, “to Lothering.”

“I was tempted to confront her; I was furious, betrayed,” she said, “but what could I do against her? And so I fled, to Ferelden, to the Chantry and the Maker. Ferelden protected my person, and the Maker saved my soul. And that is the reason I am here. The real reason. No more lies between us, at least in this.”

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Kallian said, “…I hope one day my wounds will heal enough that I can share them with you as well…”

“It feels good to have this off my chest,” she said, “take your time. Thank you for listening and understanding.”

“Of course Leliana,” Kallian nodded.

***

“What’s wrong, Wynne?” Kallian asked one night.

“Just… lost in thought,” she replied, “have you encountered many abominations apart from the ones in the Circle Tower?”

“Mmm, in Redcliffe,” Kallian replied, “there was Connor.”

“Ah, yes,” she replied, “I remember hearing about that… The first time I saw an abomination, my blood turned to ice. It was months before the nightmares stopped. It was the knowledge that I could easily become one of them that frightened me the most.”

“But this is what drove you to be more cautious,” Kallian replied.

“One slip… all it takes is one slip, and everything you are is simply… gone,” she said, “replaced by madness. And there is no turning back, or at least that’s what they say.”

“You have doubts?” Kallian asked.

“Of late I have begun to wonder if… if there is any way an abomination can be…cured,” she replied, “or if a mage could be so possessed and still retain their sanity, their humanity.”

“Hmm,” Kallian hummed in thought, “I think that if you’re able to retain both your sanity and humanity, you’re not an abomination.”

“Yes… it is madness and cruelty that define abominations,” she replied in thought, “if those are lacking… if the mage remembers the person they truly are then… they’re not abominations.”

“That’s just what I think though,” Kallian replied.

“I never saw that…” she replied, “thank you for showing me another way of looking at it.”

***

“KALLI?!” two familiar voices shouted, as they approached the Dalish camp.

“What are you doing here!?” one of them shouted.

“Please don’t tell us you’re here to drag us back to the Alienage!” the other shouted.

“Well… I’m glad to see you made it to the Dalish, I suppose,” she sighed, “honestly you two, do you know how worried Taeodor was? And leaving on the day of Soris’ wedding? That’s rather cruel of you, don’t you think?”

“We’re sorry,” they said in unison.

“You’d better be,” she sighed again.

“Do all of you know each other?” Zevran asked.

“This is Raedyn and Arwyn, we come from the same alienage,” she said a hand to her head.

“But why are you here?” Arwyn asked.

“Grey Warden business, Blight and all that, you know how it goes,” she replied.

“Ohh… I don’t know how much help we’ll be able to offer you though,” Raedyn said, “you should talk with our keeper about it.”

“I can bring you to him,” another voice said.

“Thank you, Mithra,” Arwyn replied.

***

“So…” he said watching her leave, “what can you tell me about Kallian?”

“Huh? About Kalli?” Raedyn asked, “what do you want to know?”

“What was she like back in the alienage?” he asked.

“She has the strongest sense of responsibility I’ve ever seen,” Arwyn replied, “she’s also really patient and diplomatic. She’s perfect wife and mother material.”

“She only gets angry at you for your own good too,” Raedyn added, “like that time I fell off a house and broke my arm. She was pretty mad about that.”

“But she helped nurse you back to health anyway,” Arwyn replied.

“That’s true,” Raedyn nodded, “though I think she also felt responsible. We only did it because the Tabris Sisters liked climbing things.”

“If you’re in trouble though she’ll help you out as much as possible,” Arwyn added, “though she can get kinda stubborn about the stupidest things.”

“Like that time she refused to acknowledge her incredibly bad fever, right?” Raedyn replied.

“Yeah I think she almost died from that,” Arwyn nodded, “didn’t Shianni have to threaten her to rest and recuperate?”

“Yeah,” Raedyn replied, “I think she had to sit on her too.”

“How did Shianni threaten her again?” Arwyn asked.

“I think she said that if Kalli didn’t rest, then she’d never talk to her again,” Raedyn replied, “her fever didn’t help her realize that Shianni would never follow through on that kind of threat.”

“She also comes from the most well off family in the alienage,” Arwyn said.

“Though that’s not saying much, considering the alienage,” Raedyn replied.

“She’s very selfless though, I think the adults were saying that she got her personality from both her mother and her father in equal measure,” Arwyn noted, “I think hahren was planning to make her the next hahren.”

“Hahren?” Alistair asked.

“Elder,” Raedyn replied, “our hahren was our liaison between the Alienage and the rest of the city. Also our teacher and stuff.”

“But she’s eighteen…” Alistair said.

“Age doesn’t matter,” Raedyn replied, “the role goes to the oldest soul, the wisest, cleverest, and most level-headed.”

“Which is basically Kalli,” Arwyn added.

“Wait, why are you asking about her?” Raedyn suddenly asked.

“I think he’s still trying to woo her,” Alistair replied, “it’s not going very well.”

“Ohhhhhh,” Arwyn said, “yeah good luck. She’s too serious for casual encounters. And I think she only fell in love once.”

“Oh?” he asked, “who was the lucky man? What happened?”

“That one… isn’t our story to tell,” Raedyn shook his head.

“I take it that it didn’t work out then,” he noted.

“Who knows,” Arwyn shrugged, “well… Shianni probably does.”

***

“So, what is the problem this time?” Morrigan asked as she returned to the group.

“Werewolves,” she replied, “the problem is werewolves.”

“Now that is truly quite the unexpected problem,” Morrigan replied.

“So… I guess we’re going to have to find a way to cure them?” Alistair asked.

“You know it,” she sighed, “but we should probably set up camp for the day. I don’t want werewolves to stumble into us too quickly.”

“I hear bad things about the Brecilian Forest too,” Leliana nodded, “it’s probably best we head out first thing in the morning instead of now.”

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed in agreement.

***

“Being around the Dalish camp reminds me of one of my biggest regrets,” she said idly.

“Oh?” Kallian asked, “what happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I try not to dwell too much on the mistakes of my past,” she replied, “of which there are many. I would go quite mad if I did that.”

“Good call,” Kallian nodded.

“My regret… the greatest misstep of my life,” she sighed, “made even more grave because it had dire consequences for someone else.”

“I… can understand that,” Kallian replied.

“Years ago, I was assigned as mentor to a lad, Aneirin,” she explained, “he was my first apprentice. He was an elf, raised in one of the elven Alienages, and he was very mistrustful of humans, especially humans in authority. Though, I have noticed that Flynne does not have this same problem.”

“I… taught her to be cautious,” Kallian replied, “but not hate. Never hate.”

“Yes… after what you’ve told us about life in the Alienage, a lot of his life, actions, and words started to make far more sense,” she nodded, “what he needed was time. Time to get used to his new home, time to emerge from his shell so we could build a rapport. I gave him no such time… I was young and arrogant. ‘He is a mage,’ I thought, ‘he needs to grow up and act like one.’”

“I can see how that wouldn’t turn out well,” Kallian frowned.

“I expected too much from him, too quickly,” she replied, “I gave no consideration to his origin, or his feelings. And he retreated further from me. All I could think of was how stubborn he was, how he was throwing away all his talent and his potential, just to be difficult. I was a harsh taskmistress, he might have thought I was a demon in disguise. You are much kinder and considerate than I was at your age. You cannot plant crops in the cold wintry ground; you cannot teach a student who is closed off and unresponsive. I wish I’d learned that lesson earlier.”

“What happened?” Kallian asked.

“He ran away from the Circle, one night,” she sighed, “I had berated him over some, trivial, ridiculous matter that I no longer remember,” she replied, “I drove him away because of something utterly unimportant. He was a child, fourteen at the time of his leaving. They had his phylactery and they hunted him down. They called him ‘maleficar’… He was a child, misunderstood and lost. I begged the templars to tell me if he suffered, if they gave him a quick death. I got no answers from them. I was his mentor and they wouldn’t even tell me what became of him. I should have known better… I had the best mentors; they were kind, compassionate… why didn’t I learn from them?”

“Unless you trip up,” Kallian replied, “you’ll never truly know the full extent of your mistakes.”

“I failed Aneirin. All I had to do was listen to him,” she replied, “he would try to talk to me, and I would tell him to concentrate on his spells. He talked about the Alienage sometimes… and the Dalish, he always talked about looking for the Dalish elves.”

“Maybe he did find them,” Kallian replied, “those brothers earlier did.”

“The templars are well-trained and thorough,” she sighed, “that he still lives… it would be a vain hope. The apprentices that came after Aneirin benefited greatly from the lessons I learned from him. In a sense, he was my teacher, and I his student.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask around,” Kallian said, “we are here after all.”


	25. Forest

For some reason, Kallian had decided to play match-maker between two elves.

“So Sten,” Zevran started, “I understand that there are elves in the Qunari lands?”

“There are elves everywhere,” he frowned.

“Hm. Yes, well, I’ve heard that the Qunari actually put the elves in charge? Over the humans?” Zevran asked, “is that true?”

“Some of them,” he grunted.

“Only some? Which ones are they?” Zevran asked.

“The ones who belong in charge,” he replied, “that is the way of the Qun.”

“How does the Qun determine who belongs in charge?” Zevran continued.

“The tamassrans evaluate everyone and place them where their talents merit,” he replied.

“But elves, in general,” Zevran continued, “merit higher places than humans in Qunari society?”

“Some of them,” he repeated.

“Back to where we began,” Zevran sighed, “it’s like talking to a water wheel.”

“Kallian, for example,” he sighed, “would probably be a tamassran in the Qun.”

“A tamassran?” Zevran asked.

“They are teachers,” he replied, “they raise children until the age of twelve, and then evaluate and assign them roles.”

“So, then she would be in a position of authority?” Zevran asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

***

“I miss being in a city,” she sighed.

“I also consider myself more of a city elf,” Zevran said, “a forest like this just seems so very… filthy.”

“Plus, it’s apparently haunted,” she added.

“And that makes it so much better,” Zevran sighed.

“Our elves don’t like being in a forest,” Morrigan said, “’tis truly a wonder.”

“This is like my home in Seheron,” Sten noted, “but the fiends here are only monsters.”

“What do you usually fight?” she asked.

“Ours wear the faces of men,” Sten replied, “even the most cunning emissaries of the archdemon cannot pass for men.”

“I see,” she hummed.

“Darkspawn, abominations, plagues, and storms: men are far more dangerous than these,” Sten replied, “one moment of betrayal can bring more ruin than an earthquake. You know this.”

“I do,” she sighed, “I’d rather face darkspawn than have to navigate the intricacies of social interaction. Especially when against the more vengeful sorts.”

“Ah, yes,” Zevran chimed in, “the things people are capable of are rather horrendous. They can be quite unpredictable as well.”

“Wearing smiling faces but plotting behind your back,” she added.

“Oh, yes, the courts in Orlais were full of those,” Leliana nodded.

“You never know what a person is truly capable of,” she nodded with her arms crossed.

“Even when you think you know someone,” Leliana said, “sometimes you still do not know their true intentions.”

“The four of you truly seem able to bond over such social graces,” Morrigan said, “but ‘tis true, people are far more unpredictable than darkspawn, abominations, plagues, and storms.”

“You can tell what those are going to do,” she said, “but not what a person will do.”

“But living without social interaction is a lonely existence,” Wynne added, “you’ve said it yourself, Kallian, there is a negative to every positive.”

“Can we stop standing around talking?” Alistair asked, “this is a haunted forest, remember?”

***

“So,” Kallian said as the sky started to grow darker, “this is a bit of a conundrum.”

“What is?” Alistair asked.

“Well you see,” Kallian replied, “here’s the thing, right? If I can’t trust sleeping on the ground, then I’d rather sleep in a tree. And we were attacked by werewolves, so normally, I wouldn’t think it safe to sleep on the ground.”

“Oh! Like how I found you sleeping in a tree the day after I met you?” Alistair asked, “oh but wait, why didn’t you trust sleeping on the ground?”

“Human soldiers who hadn’t seen a woman in months,” Kallian replied, “anyway, since we were also attacked by trees… I can’t exactly use that tactic.”

“Not all of us can climb trees, anyway,” Wynne replied, “I’m not a spring chicken, you know.”

“So, Zevran,” Alistair started turning to him after they set up camp, “I’ve been thinking about those ink drawings, what did you call them? Tattoos? Are you… still willing to do one?”

“Oh-ho! You’ve decided to take the plunge, have you?” he replied cheerily, “what is a little pain, am I right?”

“I’m not worried about that,” Alistair replied, “I think they look interesting, though I’d want mine… smaller. When can you do it?”

“Not so fast my friend!” he replied, “there is an entire ritual to how this is done, do you not know? First I need to bathe you in a mixture of olives and rose water.”

“You need to… bathe me?” Alistair furrowed his brow, “that seems… odd.”

“No, no, no, not at all!” he replied, “it needs to be worked into your skin, preparing it to receive the ink. The massage is quite pleasurable, do not worry. You are in good hands.”

“The massage…?” Alistair frowned, “you’re having me on, aren’t you?”

“I don’t remember getting mine done being that convoluted,” Kallian cut in, “sure I had to take a bath first, but after wards Shianni just sat on me so I couldn’t move.”

“She… sat on you?” Alistair replied.

“Yes,” Kallian nodded, “I had to sit on her when I was doing hers too.”

“Why?” Alistair asked.

“So that we’d stop squirming and not mess it up,” Kallian replied.

“Ah… Kallian, you spoilsport,” he sighed.

He watched her stick her tongue out at him as she bustled around. The action caused him to remember that night after the events at Redcliffe. Idly he wondered when he could catch her in such a situation again.

“Hopefully tomorrow we can find that acorn, along with Aneirin,” Kallian said turning to Wynne, “I’m sure he’s doing fine.”

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Wynne smiled.

“Hey, Zevran,” Kallian said sitting next to him after yelling at Alistair to apologize to the ingredients.

Alistair’s cooking skills truly left something to be desired. Though he’d never seen someone force another person to apologize to the ingredients before.

“Yes, my dear?” he replied.

“What do you think of the Dalish?” Kallian asked, “in the Alienage, we simply thought they were mythical elves who lived in the forest.”

“I know little enough of the Dalish other than the fact that my mother was one,” he shrugged, “or so I was told. She had fallen in love with an elven woodcutter and accompanied him back to the city, leaving her clan behind for good. And there, of course, the woodcutter died of some filthy disease and my mother was forced into prostitution to pay off his debts. Oldest tale in the book really.”

“Was the woodcutter your father?” Kallian ended up asking after staring at him for a moment.

“How should I know? My mother was a whore, as you’ll recall,” he replied noting her furrowed brows, and an emotion he couldn’t exactly pinpoint in her expression, “none of the other elven boys in the whorehouse knew their fathers. I was not so unusual. I didn’t know my mother, either, of course. She died giving birth to me. My first victim, as it were. We were all raised communally by the whores, it was a happy enough existence, ignoring the occasional beating, until eventually I was sold to the Crows. I brought a good price, so I hear.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, still with that odd expression on her face.

“It could have been much worse. Shall I tell you about what happened to the other whorehouse boys who did not fetch a decent price with the Crows?” he replied, “surely your life has not been so idyllic? People like you and I are not exactly the product of happy lives of contentment, if I recall correctly.”

“You do,” she replied slowly.

Wait, why was he telling her about his life in the whorehouse?

“My original point is that my mother’s Dalish nature was always a point of fascination for me,” he sighed, “through all the years of my Crow training, the one thing of my mother’s that I possessed was a pair of gloves. They were of Dalish make, I knew that much, and beautiful. I had to keep them hidden, of course, as we were not allowed such things. Eventually they were discovered, and I never saw them again. Oh, but don’t worry, there has still been plenty of joy in my life. Though to tell the truth it is because I expected nothing more.”

“I wish I’d lived the same way…” he heard her mumble quietly. A shock really, he’d expected her to say something along the lines of ‘that’s such a sad way to live’.

Ah… maybe she felt that way because of her lost love? He still didn’t quite understand why the thought of her pining after someone else made him irritated. 

Strange, really. Jealousy perhaps? But he’d told her himself that there was no use being jealous of dead people.

He hadn’t even felt this way about… her… the reason why he was here, in Ferelden.

“Still, even I eventually thought that it would be better for me if I ran off to join the famous Dalish when one of their clans drew near Antiva City,” he continued, “naturally the reality did not live up to all the fantasies I had constructed as a boy, staring at those gloves. But, such is life.”

And then he froze, she’d wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

“My dear,” he started, but she cut him off.

“Shut up,” Kallian sighed, “and just accept my hug.”

Tentatively, he brought his arms up around her as well.

“By the way,” Kallian mumbled, “I’m mad at you.”

“Oh? What for?” he squeezed back.

“You stole it,” Kallian grumbled.

“Stole what?” he asked.

“My first kiss,” Kallian huffed.

“Oh? Would you mind if I stole your second one as well?” he grinned.

“Yes,” Kallian said letting him go, and slipping from his embrace, her face a delightfully bright crimson, “don’t look at me.”

He stopped her as she turned to move away, and catching her off guard, he stole another kiss. But had to back off when her fist connected with his gut.

The man who chose another woman over her was truly foolish.

***

He was confusing her, and that was all sorts of not good.

She couldn’t allow this, her hands flew to the ring around her neck and she sighed. Someone like her didn’t deserve to live, didn’t deserve anything more than either a swift painless death, or a slow painful one. 

One day she’d have to answer for her actions in the Arl of Denerim’s estate. And she really didn’t want anyone else caught up in the crossfire. Others had already suffered from it, after all.

Her hand went to her tattooed shoulder, and she suddenly missed Shianni. So she stared up at the sky, and wondered if Shianni was thinking of her too.

***

“I miss being told I’m an over thinking idiot,” Kallian sighed.

“An… odd thing to miss,” Morrigan said.

“I also miss the cuddles I used to get,” Kallian sighed again.

“Cuddles?!” Alistair asked.

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed.

“Kallian, my dear,” Zevran purred, “I had no idea you had so much experience!”

“Huh?” Kallian jolted up straight.

“Cuddles,” she giggled, “you got a lot of cuddles?”

Kallian’s face flushed deep red, all the way up to her ears as re realization hit her.

“No! What?! No way! No, I’ve never— I,” Kallian panicked and then hid her face in her hands, “Ihateyouallgoodnight.”

“It’s adorable how polite she is, even when she’s angry,” she giggled.

***

They found Danyla, and while talking to her, something in Kallian’s expression changed, but it had gone as quickly as it had come.

She smiled kindly at the elf turned werewolf and gave her word that she would bring peace to her husband, and then hardened her gaze and struck the woman down, with a thank you on her dying breath.

It made him wonder if the change in her expression was just his imagination. It probably was.

***

“Hmmm. No offense, but might I try?” Zevran asked as she inspected the hermit’s cubby, “I’ve a quick hand, after all.”

“Says the one who can’t pick locks for shit,” she mumbled, “please go ahead, show off.”

“I think that perhaps you’ve been spending too much time with Morrigan,” Zevran sighed before crouching down, “Let’s see… when was the last time I slipped my hand into some dark hole? Hmm.. I remember. Long story, that.”

“I do not know if I wish to pry on that,” Morrigan sighed.

“And there we go! It was definitely trapped, but I am too awesome by far,” Zevran said triumphantly, “here’s what was inside.”

“The acorn,” she nodded, “thank you.”

“You are welcome, my dear,” Zevran replied.

“You’re a robber is what you are! They sent you, didn’t they?” the mad hermit shouted, “well, I’ll show you! They won’t get away with this!”

***

“Friends, turn back, please,” a young elven man said as they approached after dealing with the hermit, “these woods are a danger to those who do not know the paths—”

“Aneirin…?” she stared in wonder.

“Wait, I… I remember your face… but younger,” Aneirin replied, “more impulsive… Wynne?”

“We’ll give you two some time,” Kallian said before leading the rest away.

“Thank you, Kallian,” she replied before turning back to Aneirin, “I thought they had killed you…”

“They very nearly did,” Aneirin admitted, “the templars found me while I was searching for the Dalish… they ran me through and left me for dead.”

“I brought this on you,” she apologized, “oh, I was a dreadful mentor, harsh and impatient… I am sorry for the way I treated you.”

“I have put that behind me, and you should too,” Aneirin shook his head, “I didn’t fit in with the templars and your Chantry… my path lay elsewhere.”

“Irving is a reasonable man,” she replied, “he will find some way for you to return. The Circle needs new blood. It needs to change.”

“I have fond memories of Irving,” Aneirin smiled, “he was always kind to me. I will consider your proposal and perhaps I will speak with Irving. However, I promise nothing. Now, it is getting late and you have much to do, you should be on your way.”

Behind her she could hear Kallian and Alistair squabbling about something, and then Sten’s stern voice scolding them.

“I see you’re a mentor to your new companions as well,” Aneirin chuckled, “my years in the Circle were not a complete waste. I learned more than I let on. You did teach me, Wynne, even if you didn’t know it. Look at this. It is the hardened sap of a tree native to this forest. It’s been something of a lucky charm for me, and now I want you to have it.”

“Very well, I am grateful,” she chuckled, “may your gods smile on you, Aneirin.”

“You as well,” Aneirin smiled.

“Kallian,” she called grabbing their attention.

“Oh? Are you finished?” Kallian asked, tilting her head.

“Yes, and I wanted to thank you, so very much,” she smiled.

“For what?” Kallian tilted her head in the other direction.

“For leading me to Aneirin, of course,” she replied, “you led me to Aneirin. You persisted, even though I was sure all you were going to find was a dead end.”

“It always feels nice to reach a resolution,” Kallian smiled, “and there was no harm in both asking and looking around.”

“I will never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me,” she smiled, “finding Aneirin allowed me to bring that chapter of my life to a close. I feel free… a great weight has been lifted off my heart… This moment… it feels like the moment before sunrise, when all the world is still, holding its breath waiting for first light. I can stop thinking about my past, and look forward to the future. Thank you, my friend. You will always have my gratitude.”

“You’re welcome,” Kallian smiled.


	26. The End of a Cycle

“Ahhhhhhhhhh,” she sighed staring at the insides of the ruin where the werewolves had holed themselves up.

“What’s wrong?” Leliana asked.

“Just… preparing myself,” she replied.

“For what?” Alistair frowned.

“I have some hunches on this whole business,” she sighed.

“For some reason… your hunches always turn out right…” Alistair remarked.

“I wish I could be wrong more often too,” she replied, “I just wish we could just talk this out diplomatically... But sometimes you need to let people beat the shit out of each other until they’re willing to come to a truce.”

And so they fought their way through the ruins, awakening ancient magic, killing more undead things, until finally they reached werewolves willing to talk.

“Stop! Brothers and sisters, be at ease!” the leader of the four said, “we do not wish any more of our people hurt. I ask you this now, outsider: are you willing to parley?”

“I’ve been willing to parley since I spoke to Swiftrunner in the forest,” she replied, “so?”

“Not with me, I have been sent to you on behalf of the Lady,” the wolf replied, “she believes that you may not be aware of everything you should be. She means you no harm, provided your willingness to parley in peace is an honest one.”

She drew her weapons from her back and held them out in front of her, inviting him to take them from her. He watched her for a moment, before taking them from her and leading them to where their Lady waited. 

The werewolves lining the hall growled and snarled at them as they passed, though they didn’t need to. He had her weapons after all.

“I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest,” their Lady said in greeting.

“Greetings, my name is Kallian,” she said with a slight bow, “I am glad we have finally had this chance to talk.”

“Do not listen to her, Lady!” Swiftrunner growled, “she will betray you! We must attack her now!”

“Hush, Swiftrunner,” the Lady said, “your urge for battle has only seen the death of the very ones you have been trying to save. Is that what you want?”

“No, my lady,” Swiftrunner backed down, “anything but that.”

“I apologize on Swiftrunner’s behalf, he struggles with his nature,” the Lady said.

“As do we all,” she replied.

“Truer words were never spoken,” the Lady agreed, “but few could claim the same as these creatures: that their very nature is a curse forced upon them.”

“We can settle this matter with only two more deaths,” she said calmly, “your life, and Zathrian’s lives are connected, aren’t they?”

“I see, that you are both wise and clever,” the Lady replied, “tell me, how did you find this out?”

“Their hahren, Sarel,” she explained, “he mentioned that the curse of the werewolves had existed for as long as Zathrian has.”

“It was indeed Zathrian who created the curse that these creatures suffer,” the Lady replied, “the same curse that Zathrian’s people now suffer. Centuries ago, when the Dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close to this forest. They sought to drive the Dalish away. Zathrian was a young man then. He had a son and a daughter he loved greatly, and while out hunting the human tribe captured them both.”

A sharp inhale of breath.

“The humans… tortured the boy, killed him. The girl they raped and left for dead,” Swiftrunner explained, “the Dalish found her, but she learned later she was… with child. She… killed herself.”

Her heart turned to ice.

_Not now. Not now. Notnownotnownotnownotnow._

“I see,” she replied feigning thought so that she could gather herself back together.

“Zathrian came to this ruin and summoned a terrible spirit, binding to it the body of a great wolf,” Swiftrunner continued, “so Witherfang came to be. Witherfang hunted the humans of the tribe. Many were killed, but others were cursed by his blood, becoming twisted and savage creatures...”

“They were driven into the forest. When the human tribe finally left for good,” the Lady added, “their cursed brethren remained, pitiful and mindless animals.”

“Until I found you, my lady,” Swiftrunner replied, “you gave me peace.”

“I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature,” the Lady explained, “I soothed his rage, and his humanity emerged. And he brought others to me. We seek to end the curse. The crimes committed against Zathrian’s children were grave, but they were committed centuries ago, by those who are long dead. Word was sent to Zathrian every time the landships passed this way, asking him to come, but he has always ignored us. We will no longer be denied.”

“We spread the curse to his people!” Swiftrunner said, “so he must end the curse to save them!”

“Please, mortal… you must go to him,” the Lady pleaded, “bring him here, if he sees these creatures, hears their plight… surely he will agree to end the curse!”

“Very well,” she nodded, “I would like to end this with no more bloodshed.”

“Then we shall await your return,” the Lady replied, nodding to the werewolf who she gave her blades to, “outside of this chamber, the passage leading back to the surface has been opened for you. Return with Zathrian as soon as you can.”

“It shouldn’t take too long,” she replied accepting her weapons.

“You know…” Alistair said as they began to go up the stairs, “your diplomatic skills are kind of terrifying.”

“Hm?” she hummed, “I don’t think they’re that special though.”

“No, no,” Zevran said, “I’m pretty sure you could go into politics with your level of diplomacy. Though you’d just have to worry about assassins. Then again, you’ve shown that you are more than capable of handling yourself.”

“I don’t think so,” she replied, “I think I’m kind of weak, personally.”

“What part of you is weak, exactly?” Alistair asked.

“Well… for all my supposed maturity and what not,” she said thoughtfully, “I’m still just an eighteen year old brat. I don’t have nearly as much life experience as the rest of you.”

“…You have a point,” Sten grumbled.

“Ah, and here you are already,” Zathrian said as they reached the top of the stairs.

“I knew you’d be here,” she sighed.

“Did you?” Zathrian replied, “aren’t you the intuitive one.”

“Almost frighteningly so,” Zevran added.

“There was no way to tell what would happen once you reached this ruin,” Zathrian explained, “so I decided to come myself.”

“We need to talk,” she replied, “you and I.”

“Yes, yes, there will be plenty of time for that,” Zathrian said dismissively, “did you acquire the heart?”

“Of course not,” she answered.

“You didn’t? May I ask, then,” Zathrian replied, “why are you leaving the ruin?”

“So you knew about this place,” she said.

“There was no need to tell you about it,” Zathrian replied, “I knew you would find it, and I did not care to give you a history lesson about things that have no bearing on your purpose here. But it seems that the spirit convinced you to act on her behalf. Might I inquire what she wants?”

“What do you think she wants?” she asked.

“You do understand that she actually is Witherfang?” Zathrian said.

“Of course I do,” she replied.

“She is the powerful spirit of this ancient forest that I summoned long ago,” Zathrian explained, “and bound in the body of a wolf. Her nature is that of the forest itself. Beautiful and terrible, serene and savage, maiden and beast. She is the Lady and Witherfang both. Two sides of a single being.”

“I am aware,” she stated.

“The curse came first from her,” he continued, “those she afflicted with it mirrored her own nature, becoming savage beast as well as human.”

“No,” she shook her head, “the curse came from you.”

“They attacked my clan and they were the same savages then that they have ever been,” Zathrian replied, “they deserve to be wiped out, and not defended. Come, I will accompany you back to the ruin. Let us go and speak to the spirit and I will force her into Witherfang’s form. He may then be slain and the heart taken.”

“I will not be helping you do this,” she replied calmly.

“Why? All they will want is revenge… or a release that I will not give them,” Zathrian replied angrily, “no, let us take the heart and end it.”

“Do you still have so much hatred after all this time?” she asked.

“You were not there… you did not see what… what they did to my son,” Zathrian glared, “to my daughter, and so many others. You are elven. You know what it is like to have injustice thrown in your face. Their crimes could not go unanswered!”

In her mind she saw Nelaros dying in her arms, Shianni brutalized and laying on the stone floor, Nola killed because she cried.

But she also felt empty from her actions, regret for what it meant for her loved ones, dead from not being able to prevent it, and tired from continued existence.

“I do know,” she said, “I do know what it is like to have injustice thrown in your face. I know it so well it hurts, however, the sins of the parent do not fall unto the child. You are punishing them for crimes that they themselves did not commit.”

“I remember them as if they were yesterday,” Zathrian replied, “even if they are more than animals now, they desire nothing but revenge. They will never let my clan be.”

“What they desire is an end,” she stated, “an end only you can grant them. They are tired of this cycle of hatred, as should you be.”

“Tell me, if you held your daughter’s lifeless body in your arms,” Zathrian glared, “would you not also have sworn an eternity of pain on those who did such to her?”

“But where does it end?” she replied after regarding him for a moment, “when does the pain end? When does the injustice end? When does the hatred end?”

They stared at each other before he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Very well, you wish me to go and talk? I will do so,” Zathrian replied, “but what if it is only more revenge they wish? Will you safeguard me from harm?”

“I will,” she acquiesced, “but only if you do not attack first.”

“I fail to see the purpose behind this… but very well,” Zathrian sighed, “it has been many centuries, now. Let us see what the spirit has to say.”

Carefully, she observed the exchange between the Lady of the Forest and Zathrian. It made her wonder who was truly the beast, and who wasn’t. She wondered why no one seemed to want to settle things civilly.

“Do what you have come here to do, Grey Warden, or get out of my way,” Zathrian glared at her.

“I don’t care,” she replied, “I won’t help you with this.”

“We’re standing for what’s right, here,” Alistair nodded, “no matter what.”

“Then you die with them!” Zathrian shouted, “all of you will suffer as you deserve!”

Her blade was at his throat, with a darkened expression and sharpened gaze that gave him pause.

“How are you not tired?” she asked, “how are you not tired of this?”

“What do you know?!” Zathrian glared.

“Do it! Kill him now!” Swiftrunner growled.

“Wait!” the Lady called, “if there is no room in our hearts for mercy, how may we expect there to be room in his?”

She backed off. In him she could see a possible future for her, but there was still a significant difference between them: she’d rather die than allow the people she loved and cared for suffer as he had. 

And that he was willing to continue to make people suffer sickened her.

“I cannot do as you ask, spirit. I am too old… to know mercy,” Zathrian said finally, “all I see are the faces of my children, my people. I… I cannot do it.”

“Hasn’t this gone on long enough?” Alistair asked, “the people suffering now are your own.”

“…Perhaps I have… lived too long,” Zathrian relented, “this hatred in me is like an ancient, gnarled root… it has consumed my soul. What of you, spirit? You are bound to this curse just as I am. Do you not fear your end?”

“You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me form and consciousness where none existed,” the Lady replied, “I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life. Yet of all things I desire nothing more than an end. I beg you, maker… put an end to me. We beg you… show mercy.”

“You shame me, spirit,” Zathrian sighed, “I am… an old man, alive long past his time.”

“Then you will do it?” the Lady asked, “you will end the curse?”

“Yes, I think it is time,” Zathrian replied, “let us… let us put an end to it all.”

As she watched Zathrian fall, as the spirit was engulfed in light, and the werewolves turning back into humans. The only thing she could think was how lucky they were to have an end.

“It’s… over,” the wolf that had been Swiftrunner said in bewilderment, “she’s gone, and… we’re human. I can scarcely believe it.”

“What will you do now?” she asked.

“We’ll leave the forest, I suppose,” he replied, “find other humans, see what’s out there for us. It should be quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“A fine idea,” she smiled, “good luck.”

“Thank you,” he said, “we… we’ll never forget you.”

“Aren’t peaceful resolutions the best?” she stretched after they had left, “makes you feel all warm and fuzzy?”

“That’s true,” Alistair nodded.

***

They had decided to stop for the night on the way out of the forest.

And Kallian had apparently decided to disappear.

Which was worrying, especially since earlier, he could’ve sworn he heard her enviably whispering ‘lucky’ as they watched Zathrian end the curse.

And just as he had found her after Redcliffe, she was crouching down, leaning against a tree, retching.

Something he was afraid of, especially considering her shuddering breaths earlier.

“Stalking people isn’t exactly a noble pursuit,” Kallian said after rinsing out her mouth.

“My dear, when have I ever been noble?” he asked.

“I suppose you’re right,” Kallian sighed.

“So tell me,” he replied, “what bothers you to the point of feeling sick, my dear warden?”

“Nothing I want to talk about,” Kallian replied brushing past him to return to camp.

“Do I have to steal your third kiss as well?” he purred.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Kallian grumbled, “jerk.”

“Oh come now,” he replied, getting into close proximity with her, “no need to be shy.”

“I assure you: I’m not being shy,” Kallian replied, moving away from him.

“I think you are, my dear,” he continued to move towards her, as she continued to move away.

“Why are you following me like this?” Kallian frowned.

“Are you sure it’s not just in your imagination?” he asked.

“It could be,” Kallian replied, “that’s true.”

“Then maybe you should stop moving and find out, hm?” he replied.

***

“I wonder why Zevran’s being so persistent,” he wondered out loud.

“I’m not sure even he knows,” Leliana giggled.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” he frowned.


	27. Campside Interactions Part 5

“Wynne,” he called.

“Yes, Alistair?” Wynne replied.

“My shirt has a hole in it,” he said.

“I see,” Wynne sighed, “and?”

“Can you mend it for me?” he asked.

“Can’t you mend your own clothes?” Wynne frowned, “why do I have to do it?”

“Sometimes I pick up too much fabric and it ends up all puckered and then the garment hangs wrong,” he explained, “and you’re… you know, grandmotherly. Grandmothers do that sort of thing, don’t they? Darning socks and whatnot? You don’t want me to fight darkspawn in a shirt with a hole, do you? It might get bigger. I might catch a cold.”

“Maker’s breath, Alistair,” Wynne sighed in exasperation, “I’ll mend your shirt.”

“Ohhh! And while you’re at it,” he said excitedly, “the elbows kind of need patching too…”

“Can’t you ask Kallian?” Wynne asked.

“She said she’s busy,” he replied, “though she didn’t say with what. And I don’t want to bother her, I mean, she got kind of short with me.”

“Careful, young man,” Wynne replied, “or puckered garments may be the least of your problems.”

***

“So tell me of this vision of yours, Leliana,” Zevran asked.

“I’m not certain I wish to discuss my vision with you,” she replied, “you’ll make fun of me.”

“Nooooooooo,” Zevran replied, “why would I ever do such a thing?”

“See? There you go,” she sighed, “no, I am not speaking to you of it.”

“Hmm… Yes,” Zevran hummed, “I suppose the Maker would not want you to spread His words. Very well, I’ll accept your reproach.”

“Why do you even wish to know?” she asked.

“Why, to make fun of you of course,” Zevran replied cheerily.

“Oh, go bother Kallian,” she grumbled.

“Hm?” Kallian hummed, “did I hear my name?”

“Yes,” she said, “Zevran was wanting to ask you for your advice.”

“Huh?” Kallian said with a blank look.

“On picking locks,” she replied.

“Well, he is pretty bad at it,” Kallian nodded.

“… Leliana you sly minx,” Zevran sighed.

“But I think it’s fine,” Kallian replied, “and I’m busy anyway.”

“Oh? What are you busy with, my dear warden?” Zevran turned his attention to her.

Mentally, she apologized to Kallian.

***

“Oh, yeah, Zevran,” Kallian suddenly decided to come over.

“What is it, my dear?” he asked cheerily, “finally willing to share a tent?”

“No,” Kallian deadpanned before throwing a pair of gloves at him.

“Gloves? You’re giving me gloves?” he furrowed his brow, “what for?”

“They’re Dalish,” Kallian replied, “like your mother’s… maybe.”

“I… Maker’s breath, you’re right,” he exclaimed, “they are like my mother’s! The leather was less thick, and it had more embroidery… but these are very close. And quite handsome.”

“I can’t do anything about the thickness of the leather,” Kallian replied, “but I can change the embroidery, if you’d like.”

He suddenly swept her up in a tight embrace and relished in her surprise and panic.

“Do I seem surprised?” he asked, “perhaps I am.”

“Leli,” Kallian called out to her fellow red head, “help!”

“Hush now, and just accept my hug,” he grinned, “still, I appreciate the fact that you even thought of me. No one has simply… given me a gift before. Thank you.”

“LELI HELP!” Kallian called out again as she covered the ear he blew at causing him to chuckle, “Leli! NO! LELI PLEASE! LELI WHY?!”

Sensitive ears, good to know.

He also silently thanked Leliana for choosing to ignore her.

***

“By the way, Kallian,” she decided to ask, “I have a wonder, if you’ll indulge me.”

“Okay?” Kallian replied.

“You sent that child, Flynne to the Circle,” she said ,”why would you do such a thing?”

“There’s no one in the alienage who could’ve taught her,” Kallian answered, “I couldn’t stunt her intellectual growth just because I didn’t want to give her up. That would have been selfish.”

“So it was not,” she said, “because you simply did not want to deal with her?”

“I just wanted her to get the best education she could get,” Kallian replied, “and unfortunately, I couldn’t provide it.”

“I see,” she hummed in thought.

***

Three days away from Denerim they were attacked by a group of people.

“Stop,” she said, “don’t kill him.”

“Okay,” Kallian nodded.

“He is no common bandit. None of them were,” she replied, “their weapons and armor are of fine make, and they are well trained. You know what I am talking about, don’t you? Who are you?”

“Well, he’s not a Crow,” Zevran said.

“Someone who regrets taking you on,” the man replied, “was told it would be an easy job. Kill the little red-haired girl, deal with the others as we pleased.”

“Who hired you to kill Kallian?” she glared.

“Not the elf, you,” the man replied.

“Me?” she said in shock, “you came to kill me?”

“Who?” Kallian glared.

“It don’t pay to ask why someone wants someone else dead,” the man said, “I just need to know what to do, and where to get my money.”

“It’s true, not even Crows are given reasons why someone needs someone else dead,” Zevran nodded.

“Hah, money! I’ll be lucky to get away with my life, it seems,” the man coughed, “maybe we could work something out? You’ll like the idea.”

“No, we have enough assassins, thank you,” Zevran replied.

“Speak quickly,” she said ignoring Zevran.

“I’ve no real quarrel with you,” the man explained, “wasn’t me that wanted you dead, but I know how you can find the one who does.”

“Your life for information, then,” she replied.

“I have some directions written down on how to get to the house,” the man handed her a note, “it’s in Denerim, it’s the best I can do.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, “now leave. I never want to see you again.”

“Don’t worry,” the man replied before limping off, “I’ll not trouble you no more.”

“It’s Marjolaine… it has to be,” she said turning to Kallian.

“Why now?” Kallian asked.

“Maybe someone saw me… maybe she’s finally found me and wants to finish what she started,” she said in thought.

“We should confront her when we get to Denerim then,” Kallian replied.

“She needs to answer for what she’s done to me,” she nodded, “perhaps it’s time to settle this score for good.”

***

“Kallian,” he called walking over to her.

“Hm?” Kallian hummed.

“Is there a reason I’m missing a pair of pants as well as a tunic?” he frowned.

“I needed to borrow them,” Kallian replied.

“My dear,” he sighed.

“And I didn’t want to deal with your flirting for it,” Kallian cut him off, “I needed mens clothes, and Sten’s and Alistair’s are way too big. Yours are only slightly too big.”

“Why did you need mens clothes?” he frowned.

“We’ll be going into Denerim tomorrow,” Kallian replied.

“And you need mens clothes to get into Denerim?” he raised a brow.

“Yes,” Kallian replied.

“What for?” he asked.

“Reasons,” Kallian replied.

“My dear,” he sighed, “you do not get to just steal my clothes and then tell me you needed them for ‘reasons’.”

“And ruin the surprise?” Kallian replied batting her eyelashes at him.

“Fine,” he relented.

She was clearly up to something, but it was obvious that she wouldn’t say.

“Zevran,” Leliana said walking up to him, “did I hear that right? Kallian stole a pair of your pants and a shirt?”

“Yes,” he replied, “that she did.”

“Hmmm,” Leliana hummed, “I wonder why she would do that.”

“I would like to know that as well,” he sighed.


	28. Denerim Part 1

“Morning,” a boyish voice yawned as he exited Kallian’s tent.

“Who are you?” he glared at the young boy, “and what are you doing here?

Plain faced, scrawny, was this the kind of men Kallian was into? How did he manage to get into her tent before he did? When did he even manage to sneak into their camp?

“Oh?” the boy had the gall to smirk at him, “are you jealous?”

“Zevran, who’s that?” Alistair asked, “wait where’s Kallian?”

“She’s not in her tent!” Leliana shouted.

“What did you do to Kallian?” he snarled.

And suddenly, the boy dissolved into a fit of laughter, their voice changing to one they knew quite well.

“Ahahaha Zevran, your face!” Kallian laughed, “your face! Ahahahaha!”

“K…Kallian?” Alistair stuttered.

“Yes,” Kallian nodded.

“Did you really look like that?” Alistair asked.

“I used make up to make my face look plainer!” Kallian beamed.

“…This is why you needed my clothes?” he finally asked.

“Mhm,” Kallian hummed.

“Why do you need to pretend to be a man going into Denerim?” Wynne asked.

“I’ve never been comfortable entering the Market district as a woman,” Kallian replied, “if I’m caught for petty crimes as a boy they’ll just beat me, but if I’m a girl…”

“I see…” Wynne said.

“Though I don’t have a name prepared,” Kallian frowned, “I’ve been thinking on it all night. I also forgot what voice I was using…”

“Kallian,” Leliana spoke up, “how deep of a voice can you do?”

“Uhmm…” Kallian held a hand to her throat and then started dropping her voice lower and lower until it gained a deep, rich, and sultry quality, “about this why?”

“That voice doesn’t match your face,” Morrigan said.

“Well, of course it doesn’t,” Kallian frowned, “this face is for a more boyish voice, like this.”

“I think you broke Alistair, and Zevran,” Leliana giggled.

“Huh?” Kallian turned to him, “oh dear.”

This woman would have made an excellent Crow.

***

“I think I’ll just go with ‘Red’,” she said in thought.

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” Alistair said, “why can your voice go deeper than mine?”

“Practice,” she replied.

“Who practices that kind of thing?” Alistair frowned.

“Mmm… Flynne said I do all the best voices remember?” she replied.

“Kallian,” Sten said.

“Yes?” she replied.

“Your life makes no sense,” Sten stated.

“Well… it used to,” she sighed, “to me anyway.”

“Wait, Kallian,” Zevran spoke up, “where did your breasts go?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask that,” she sighed, “I bound them.”

“Can I see?” Zevran grinned.

“No,” she deadpanned, “anyway let’s go, we have things to do.”

***

“Darrian,” Kallian called as they watched him run off in a seemingly random direction, “where… guess he had some shopping to get done… Well, let’s get our lodgings settled and then get to work.”

“Yes!” he shouted, “I would like to stop by Goldanna’s if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, sure,” Kallian replied, and then her eyes took on a strange sparkle, “and since we’re in the market district… I’m going to go crazy.”

“Crazy, how?” he asked warily.

“Don’t underestimate a wife on a budget!” Kallian replied pointing a finger in his face.

“But, my dear,” Zevran replied, “you are not married.”

“True,” Kallian shrugged, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to stretch a sovereign.”

“Are we really that poor?” he raised a brow.

“Not especially,” Kallian replied, “I mean I had Bodhan selling things I made in every village so…”

“Then is it necessary?” he asked.

“Maybe not… but getting good deals on things always feels good,” Kallian grinned, and then her face blanked out, “Maker’s breath Darrian, why are you kidnapping children?”

“Puppy!” the boy shouted excitedly as Darrian barked excitedly.

“No, you can’t keep him,” Kallian frowned, causing Darrian to whine sadly, “go bring him back to where you found him.”

“That’s… my sister’s house, I’m almost sure of it,” he said excitedly, “yes, this is the right address! She could be inside. Could we… go and see?”

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” Kallian replied before starting to trot away.

“WAIT!” he stopped her, “do I seem a little nervous? I am. I really don’t know what to expect. I’d like you to be there with me, if you’re willing.”

“You… need me for moral support,” Kallian frowned.

“Or we could… leave, I suppose,” he said talking quickly, “we really don’t have time to pay a visit, do we? Maybe we should go.”

“Well, have fun everyone,” Kallian sighed, “let’s see if she’s home then Alistair.”

“Will she even know who I am?” he wondered, “does she even know I exist? My sister. That sounds very strange… ‘sister.’ ‘Siiiiiiiiisssssssster.’ Hmmm. Now I’m babbling. Maybe we should go. Let’s go. Let’s just… go.”

***

Well, meeting with Alistair’s sister went about the same way she expected it to.

“Two things Alistair,” she said holding up two fingers, “one: there are people like that who are only out for themselves. A lesson you should learn. And two: family is more than blood ties.”

“I… suppose you’re right,” Alistair sighed, “I just expected her to accept me without question. I thought that’s what family does.”

“Alistair,” she sighed, “we already bicker like siblings.”

“Do we?” Alistair asked.

“Yes,” she nodded, “but you still need to learn how to look out for yourself. I’m not always going to be here for you.”

“I guess… you’re right,” Alistair sighed, “I don’t want to talk about this any more right now.”

“Take your time,” she replied, “and now I’ve got places to be, so, toodles!”

***

“Red, my dear,” he asked following Kallian, “where are you going?”

“Why are you following me?” Kallian replied, before ducking into a dark alley.

“Just a point of curiosity that’s all,” he replied.

“If you’re going to follow me then keep watch for me,” Kallian replied wiping off her make up.

She was baffling him as he both stayed on look out, and watched as she changed up her hairstyle, her make up, and loosened some of the bindings around her chest under his shirt.

Not an unwelcome sight, in fact, there was something alluring about seeing her in his clothes.

“So, what are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m Tathas,” Kallian replied, “and I’m up to no good.”

“And you’re bringing me along, yes?” he grinned, up to no good sounded like fun.

“I don’t know if I have a choice,” Kallian sighed.

Kallian certainly looked at home, here in the Market District, he followed as she began talking to someone about committing crimes of breaking, and entering, and theft.

And with his interest more than piqued, he had great fun helping her out, until he saw someone he recognized, that is.

“Tathas,” he said quietly pulling her aside into an alley, “see that man?”

“Mhm?” Kallian hummed, as she backed herself against a wall and wrapped her arms around him.

And suddenly he found himself very distracted, but he got the point and pinned her against the wall.

“He’s Master Ignacio, a Crow from Antiva,” he whispered into her ear, grinning at her barely concealed shudder.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Kallian frowned.

“Not anymore than you are,” he replied cheerily, pressing his lips to her neck.

“So, what about it?” Kallian asked quickly.

A sensitive neck too, hm?

“Just that we should be careful,” he replied, as he wondered just how long he could keep her like this.

He got his answer in the shape of a fist to his gut.

“Noted,” Kallian said slipping away from him, “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“I believe that is the opposite of what I said,” he said dryly, “also where did you learn that tactic? How many people have you been with, exactly?”

“Places,” Kallian replied, “and exactly zero.”

“Zero?” he balked, “you can’t expect me to believe that a crafty minx like you has been with no one.”

“What you believe isn’t my concern,” Kallian replied airily.

“So Zevran who is your friend?,” Leliana said grinning as she sauntered up to them, “and even if it’s in a dark corner, it’s a rather bright day, for you two to be shamelessly flirting in public, don’t you think?”

“I’m Tathas, do you want to be up to no good too?” Kallian asked innocently, “though we might be up to good soon. I think that guard over there had a job posting on the Chanter’s board.”

“Wait,” Leliana replied, “are you two up to actual no good?”

“Yes,” he sighed, “and not the especially naughty kind.”

“And Tathas,” Leliana wondered, “how many times are you going to change your face in one day?”

“As many times as I like,” Kallian beamed, “let’s see, Alistair’s probably pouting back in the inn, Sten’s probably in that weapons shop, Wynne’s probably in the Wonders of Thedas, Morrigan’s browsing the apothecary’s shop… We should be good to continue.”

He had mixed feelings about Kallian accepting assassination jobs from Master Ignacio, who was also shocked at Kallian’s resourcefulness, and had even more mixed feelings when the Crow had hinted that she might have a future in the Crows.

Though, he had to admit, performing assassination jobs with her was oddly satisfying.

“You’re not seriously considering joining the Crows,” he said, “I hope.”

“Mmm… who knows what the future hold?” Kallian shrugged.

And he could have sworn he heard her mumble: 

“and even after the Blight’s done with… I probably won’t be alive for much longer after that…”

And that heart wrenchingly lonely and sad face painted her features, before being quickly wiped away.

He had to admire whoever it was, who had managed to capture her heart so completely that she wanted to chase him to her doom. 

Even if it annoyed him.

***

Once they’d had their fill of mischief, mayhem, and assassinations. They’d decided to drag Alistair out of the inn, and his pouting for their work with the guard.

She made Alistair change his hair style, clothes, and used make up to alter his face.

“Kallian,” Leliana hummed behind her as she worked on Alistair, “you are far too good at this for a normal person.”

“Takes all sorts,” she replied after adding the finishing touches.

“So,” Alistair started, “is there a reason for all of this?”

“We’re wanted people, Alistair,” she replied, “we can’t just go waltzing around the place. I mean sure, hiding in plain sights one of the best tactics but… this is so much more fun.”

“Yes,” Alistair replied slowly, “you do seem to be having a lot of fun.”

“Right,” she said turning to Alistair, “who am I?”

“Tathas,” Alistair replied.

“And who are you?” she asked.

“Kris,” Alistair replied.

“Alright, let’s go see what Sergeant Kylon needed,” she nodded.

“Wait… Aren’t you…?” Sergeant Kylon, said looking past Alistair.

She simply put on her brightest, and most terrifying smile.

She knew someone would recognize her eventually… Walking through the Market on a bright day wearing a wedding dress, and covered in blood wasn’t exactly the most… subtle way of moving about.

“Right, well, my mistake, sorry,” Sergeant Kylon coughed, “so what can I help you with?”

“We saw your posting on the Chanter’s board,” Alistair replied, “you needed some help?”

“Yes, I could use help,” Sergeant Kylon replied, “I got a pretty popular… establishment… that’s crawling with mercenaries. If I send my boys in, someone might get—Maker forbid— hurt. And I’ll have to explain to their noble fathers that being a guard is actually dangerous.”

“What do you need us to do?” Alistair asked.

“The name of the whorehouse is the Pearl,” Sergeant Kylon explained, “beat down any mercenaries that are out-of-line and send them a message.”

“The Pearl? We are going to the Pearl?” Zevran cheered.

“Yes,” Sergeant Kylon replied, “I said beat down, not kill. Let me make that really clear: not on fire, or exploded, or Maker knows whatever type of grisly death you can dream up. Sorry… used to giving orders to my boys. Just leave them breathing, and I’ll be happy.”

“Sign us up, Sergeant,” Alistair nodded.

“Thank you,” Sergeant Kylon nodded, “happy hunting.”

Of course their journey to the Pearl was waylaid by the various back alley gangs that ran amok in Denerim, but dealing with them wasn’t exactly difficult, which left her time to think about how she could sneak into the Alienage without getting caught. It was dangerous, and risky, but after hearing Zathrian’s story, necessary. She needed to see Shianni, and make sure she was still alive.

Luckily the time the two spent crawling over the rooftops in Denerim wouldn’t all be for naught. Idly she remembered all the times they climbed to the best spots so that they could watch the sunrise on First Day.

And how she wished she could go back to those days.

***

“Once we’re finished here,” Kallian spoke up, “we’ll go to the address on the note before heading back to the inn.”

“Thank you,” she replied, “I think that it will feel good to have this settled.”

“By the way,” Alistair spoke up, “I will never get used to how quietly the three of you move.”

“It took me years and years to learn, and even then I am not the best at it,” she said.

“I grew up on the streets of Denerim,” Kallian replied, “I needed to learn how to be sneaky.”

“Alistair,” Zevran said, “you know my background, yes?”

“But… Leliana, Kallian,” Alistair said, “you two are still weirdly good at it. Did you… sneak around when spying?”

“I take it that that question was for me,” she said, “we all had different ways of doing things. Some preferred not to be seen at all, to cloak themselves in shadow and darkness. I realized that it is not such a bad thing to be seen, as long as you do not stand out and are quickly forgotten. I specialized in blending in, not drawing attention and looking like I had every right to be there. It is invisibility, but of another kind. Though apparently my skills pale in comparison to Tathas’s.”

“I don’t know how to be a noble woman,” Kallian replied, “that one, I’ve never figured out.”

“But if you seduce your targets,” Alistair said, “they’d remember you.”

“Not if they died…” she grinned.

“…Oh,” Alistair frowned.

“You and Zevran seem to have a lot in common,” Kallian said, “mayhaps you should turn your affections?”

“Oh? Are you jealous, my dear?” Zevran grinned.

“Ah ha ha ha,” Kallian laughed monotonously.

“Only if every man in Ferelden suddenly dropped dead,” she replied, “and dying while in the company of a lovely seductress… tell me that isn’t a good death.”

“I don’t know if I should take you seriously… but you scare me sometimes,” Alistair frowned, “actually… all the women in our group scare me.”

“A little bit of fear never hurts,” Kallian replied, “as long as it’s not in excess.”

“Right…” Alistair replied.

“I wish I pawned off these silver bars in the market district,” Kallian sighed, “they’re so heavy…”

“Where did you get silver bars?” Alistair asked suspiciously.

“A friend gave them to me to help us in our travels,” Kallian lied effortlessly.

“I can hold on to them, if you’d like,” Zevran offered.

“Okay,” Kallian replied, and handed him her pack.

“By the way, Tathas,” she said, “have you ever seduced a woman before?”

“Mmm… Once,” Kallian said in thought.

“Oh?” Zevran hummed.

“I lost a bet,” Kallian frowned, “nothing extreme happened though. I just got her drunk.”

“Did you use that deep voice of yours?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” Kallian grinned, “though Shianni also liked to use me as an excuse as to why she didn’t want to find a match. Of course I teased her mercilessly for it, but I know why she’d always been so against it so, I happily played along.”

“Why would that be?” she wondered.

“It’s bad to gossip about people behind their backs,” Kallian replied.

“Tathas,” Zevran said, “you’ve spent the entire day showing us how bad of a person you are. Surely this is just another line to cross, yes?”

“She’s family,” Kallian replied, “and I love her, so it’s different.”

***

“It’s been forever since I last came to the Pearl,” she sighed, “the last time Shianni insisted we learn ‘how to seduce people’ because ‘doesn’t it sound like fun?’”

“So this is why you have all these skills,” Zevran said in thought.

“We’re both quick learners, and far too curious for our own good,” she replied, “so we often dragged each other around learning different things together. It’s a lot more fun when you learn things with good company. Well, except for that experience.”

“Oh?” Leliana asked.

“I didn’t want to learn that, I really really didn’t,” she sighed, “but she brought up how badly I did when trying my hand at baking. Not only that, but I’ve also always had the bad habit of letting her talk me into things.”

“But it came in handy,” Zevran noted.

“Yes,” she sighed, “we were sneaking around the market at night, and almost got caught. So we quickly pretended we were just lovers on a clandestine date. Guards quickly decided we weren’t a threat. Marvelous, really.”

“That is very quick thinking,” Leliana replied.

“Could have done without her letting out that super loud moan though,” she groaned, “but she wanted to get the point across.”

“So why were you two sneaking around at night?” Alistair asked.

“We liked exploring,” she replied, “also the city looks very different at night. Sometimes on full moons we’d make snacks and find a nice spot to relax. It was calming, like nothing else mattered for just those few moments. We weren’t elves, we were just two sisters off on a merry jaunt.” 

“Wait… how badly did you mess up baking?” Alistair suddenly asked.

“We were sick for a few days,” she shuddered, “everything hurt.”

“How did you mess up that badly?” Alistair frowned.

“I don’t even know,” she sighed, “I followed the exact same recipe that she did but… Well she’s terrible at cooking so, it evened out… Father was not a fan of us wasting ingredients though.”


	29. Denerim Part 2

“Welc—,” Wynne froze, “Maker’s breath Alistair, what happened to your face?”

“I’m Kris,” Alistair replied flatly.

“That is not the face you set out with earlier,” Sten said inspecting Kallian.

“I’m Tathas,” Kallian replied, “Red had to go do things.”

“They needed disguises,” she giggled, “Tathas is quite skilled with make up.”

“’Twas Tathas’s idea then?” Morrigan asked, “to disguise yourselves?”

“Yes,” Zevran replied, “since the Grey Wardens are wanted people in Denerim.”

“Smart choice,” Sten nodded in approval.

“Glad you think so,” Kallian replied.

“I’m not going to have to sleep like this, right?” Alistair asked.

“No, you won’t,” Kallian replied, “should probably keep the name though.”

“Tathas, was it?” Wynne sighed, “I suppose it is far smarter for you two to travel under aliases in Denerim.”

“Tomorrow, first thing in the morning we should probably head over to Brother Genitivi’s house,” Kallian said stretching, “what an eventful day. I’m sleepy.”

“What in the Maker’s name did you all get up to?” Wynne asked.

“A lot of things,” she replied, “some of them good, some of them bad, but all of them fun.”

“Like?” Sten asked.

“Crippled some of Howe’s support,” Kallian replied counting off on her fingers, “helped Alistair, helped Leliana, spent some time in the Pearl, got taught how to fight, found an old lover of Zevran’s, cleared out a nest of blood mages…”

“All in one day?” Wynne asked flabbergasted.

“We’re efficient people,” she giggled.

“That ‘twould certainly seem to be the case,” Morrgian replied.

“Helped that we had an early start,” Kallian nodded, “so we’ll get one tomorrow too.”

She decided to take a trip back to the past and use some of the skills Marjolaine taught her:

In that apparently, both she and Zevran noticed Kallian in her disguise of ‘Red’ sneaking out of the inn after everyone had fallen asleep. After they had both shared a look, they waited a moment and went after her.

They watched as Kallian easily slipped through the shadows, the only thing allowing them to follow her, being their years of experience. Kallian led them through numerous side alleys, and then up buildings, across roofs, and then vanished.

“How did we lose her?” Zevran sighed.

“Good question,” she replied, “are we getting rusty?”

“It would certainly seem so,” Zevran replied.

“Should we wait here or go back to the inn?” she asked.

“Let’s wait a bit…” Zevran said, “who knows?”

“Who knows indeed?” Kallian spoke up from behind them.

“So, where did you go?” Zevran asked.

“I… needed to check something,” Kallian replied, “but my curiosity has been sated.”

“Were you crying?” Zevran asked as he grabbed Kallian’s chin to inspect her face.

“Hm?” Kallian hummed, before bringing a hand to her eyes, “oh… I suppose I was. Anyway, we should get back.”

“You’re not going to tell us where you went,” Zevran said flatly.

“I’m not,” Kallian nodded swatting his hands off her face.

“If Leliana weren’t here…” she heard Zevran mumble.

“If I weren’t here then what?” she frowned.

“Nothing, nothing,” Zevran replied, “let’s go back.”

***

Figures that they would follow her. The both of them were so protective sometimes.

But they didn’t need to know that she snuck into the alienage, didn’t need to know that she needed to see even a glimpse of Shianni, that she needed to see that she was still alive with her own eyes.

So she’ll just keep that to herself.

***

He woke up to the sound of their rooms door opening, and the sound of a sack hitting the floor.

“What…?” he grumbled.

“Kris,” Kallian said, “we gotta get your face on.”

“What are those?” he asked pointing to the sacks Zevran, Leliana, and Kallian put down.

“Fruits and vegetables,” Kallian replied with a happy sigh, “I missed the farmers market.”

“Apparently,” Zevran spoke up, “Red really really knows how to stretch a soverign.”

“It was kind of amazing really,” Leliana noted, “I learned a lot.”

“All of that,” he said pointing at the sacks, “were one soverign?”

“Pretty much,” Kallian replied.

“Actually slightly less,” Zevran added.

“How?” he asked.

“Sellers usually have not as nice looking products that they’ll sell for cheaper,” Kallian sighed, “we should go back before sun down.”

“And how are you planning to store those, young lady?” Wynne asked firmly.

“These keep better in baskets,” Kallian replied as she started sorting through the sacks, “these in jars, these I can pickle, these can be dried.”

“A wife on a budget is certainly not something to laugh at,” Leliana nodded.

“Anyway, wash your face, Kris,” Kallian ordered, “we need to get to Brother Genitivi’s and then I need to prepare and pack these.”

“Alright, alright,” he sighed.

He was never going to get used to how easily Kallian was able to alter both his and her own appearances. How easily she changed into another person.

“I don’t think I shall ever get used to how widely skilled ‘Red’ is,” Morrigan said.

“Strangely, I agree,” he sighed, “wait… why do you three always seem to be together these days?”

“I’m wondering that too,” Kallian frowned.

“I’m finding myself wondering that as well,” Zevran replied, “Leliana why do you keep following us?”

“’Us’?” Kallian sighed.

“Why, to make fun of you of course,” Leliana echoed his words from earlier.

“I’m more wondering why I can’t go anywhere alone these days,” Kallian replied.

“I can’t protect you if I’m not around, hm?” Zevran grinned, “I did swear an oath to be yours, remember?”

“And I believe I told you I’m not holding you to an oath,” Kallian grumbled, “will you ever give up?”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” Zevran replied happily.

“Also, Kallian, do you want me to leave you alone with Zevran?” Leliana asked.

“No,” Kallian said at the same time Zevran said “Yes!”

***

“So, Kris,” Leliana asked, “what was that… soup you cooked the other day?”

“Oooooh, that?” Alistair asked, “that’s a traditional Ferelden lamb and pea stew. Did you like it?

“Oh…” Leliana replied “so it was …lamb then? It had a certain texture I don’t normally associate with lamb…”

“They didn’t make lamb and pea stew for you in Lothering?” Alistair asked.

“We ate simply there,” Leliana replied, “whole grains, made into biscuits or bread, and vegetables from the garden, cooked lightly. No heavy stews.”

“Ah, so the last lamb you had was probably cooked Orlesian style,” Alistair laughed, “food shouldn’t be frilly and pretentious like that. Now here in Ferelden, we do things right. We take our ingredients, throw them into the largest pot we can find, and cook them for as long as possible until everything is a uniform grey color. As soon as it looks completely bland and unappetizing, that’s when I know it’s done.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Zevran spoke up, “Red’s cooking is both beautiful, and very flavorful.”

“It’s true, his cooking is very delicious,” Leliana agreed, “not only that but he changes it up depending on how we’re feeling. The soup we had the morning after your stew was made light, and very easy to digest.”

“I tried to fix Kris’s cooking once,” she sighed, “it didn’t work. I don’t understand how it didn’t work. The spices turned into goop.”

“Maybe Kris should stay away from cooking duty from now on,” Leliana replied.

“Not all of us can be wife material okay?” Alistair huffed.

“Do you want me to make lamb and pea stew?” she asked.

“I… would like to know what it’s supposed to actually taste like, yes,” Leliana said in thought.

“Do you even know how to make stew?” Alistair asked, “I’ve never seen you make it.”

“Stews are actually one of my cooking strengths,” she replied.

“…What are your cooking weaknesses?” Zevran asked, “as a point of curiosity.”

“Mmm…” she hummed in thought, “I don’t think I’m very good at cooking chicken.”

“…But the chicken you make is always delicious, moist, and not dry like so many chefs tend to do,” Leliana replied.

“Honestly, if we weren’t on the road and fighting all the time,” Zevran said, “I’d worry about getting fat.”

“I would too!” Leliana agreed.

“This is it,” she said stopping in front of Brother Genitivi’s house and knocked, “let’s see what’s up.”

“Yes? Hello?” a man said opening the door, “who are you and why are you here?”

“My name is Red,” she replied, “and we were looking for Brother Genitivi?”

“My name is Weylon, and I am the assistant of the scholar Brother Genitivi,” Weylon replied letting them in, “this is his house.”

Immediately, she could tell something was up. It smelled… wrong especially for a well kept house like this.

“Where is he?” she asked, “do you know?”

“Unfortunately I don’t know either,” Weylon replied, “I haven’t seen Brother Genitivi in weeks, he’s sent no word; it’s so unlike him. I am afraid something has happened. Genitivi’s research into the Urn may have led him into danger.”

“Do you think he’s in trouble because of the Urn?” she asked.

“Perhaps the Urn has been lost for a reason,” Weylon replied, “I pray for Genitivi’s safety, but hope dwindles with each passing day.”

“I see…” she hummed in thought, and then quick as a flash he was pressed against a wall with her dagger against his throat, and she beamed at him, “want to tell us who you really are? And what you’re doing here?”

“Whoa! Wait! K— Red hold on!” Alistair shouted in surprise, “what are you doing?!”

“Surely you’ve noticed the smell too,” she replied darkly, punctuating each syllable in her last two words with a malicious grin, “it smells of rotting flesh.”

“What makes you—” Weylon tried to speak.

“Oh! Can I do the interrogation?” Zevran shouted cheerily.

“No, no, no,” Leliana tsk’d, “clearly this is something I should do.”

“…I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid before in my life,” Alistair said, “I’m just… going to excuse myself and…wait outside.”

“But you guys,” she frowned, “I clearly said it first.”

“Ah, yes, however,” Zevran argued, “my dear, which one of us is the trained assassin?”

“No, no,” Leliana argued, “I insist you let me take care of this I have ways of getting information as well.”

“I’m telling you,” she argued, “I called him out on it! So it’s mine!”

***

“Oh, Kris?” Wynne frowned, “why are you alone? Where are the other three?”

“It’s a bit of a scary situation over there,” he replied.

“What?! Are they in trouble?!” Wynne shouted in alarm, “Maker’s Mercy Alistair! Where are they?!”

“No, they’re not in trouble,” he said slowly, “the impostor in Brother Genitivi’s house is.”

“What do you mean?” Wynne asked calming down.

“Currently, they’re arguing about who should take care of interrogating him,” he sighed, “apparently, the house smells of rotting flesh. Last I checked, Red had him pinned against a wall with a scary face on. Actually, all three of them had terrifying faces. I think I’ll be having nightmares for weeks.”

“Oh, here you are, Kris,” Kallian said brightly opening the door, “we were wondering where you went.”

“Well,” he replied, “I figured you all had it covered. Who ended up interrogating him?”

“Nobody,” Zevran sighed, “he ended up accidentally killing himself on Red’s daggers.”

“It was rather unimpressive,” Leliana frowned, “he tried to put distance between them but ended up forgetting Red’s dagger was there and slit his own throat.”

“So what… we have no leads?” he asked.

“No, no,” Kallian waved her hand around, “of course we have leads.”

“We have them right here,” Leliana said dropping a few books on the table.

“This one worries me though,” Kallian said holding up a book on ‘Dragon Cults’.

“Dragon… Cults?” he frowned, “are they worshiping the Blight?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Kallian frowned opening up another book, “but this book details Brother Genitivi’s research. He found the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

“But it’s in some back water village that we’ve never even heard of,” Zevran frowned.

“What about Brother Genitivi?” he asked.

“Probably dead,” Leliana frowned, “but at least we found this map.”

“You three are a surprisingly effective combo,” he stared at them.

“Anyway,” Kallian sighed, “what should we do about Weylon’s body? I don’t think he deserves to be rotting in a corner like that.”

“That’s certainly a question,” Zevran sighed.

“I’ll go tell the guard in the Market Place,” Leliana offered before leaving, “he’ll know what to do about it.”

“Alright,” Kallian said slumping into a chair holding her head, “ugh… I need… sweets.”

“Sweets? Why do you need sweets?” Zevran asked.

“Sweets are an intellectuals best friend,” Kallain replied falling forward so that her head was against the table, “I have a headache.”

“You could have read those books slower, you know,” Zevran sighed, “Braska! You have a fever!”

“Your hand feels nice,” Kallian mumbled into the table, “I don’t want to think anymore. Good night.”

“At least get into bed!” Zevran grumbled fretting over her.

“What’s even happening anymore?” he asked Wynne.

“I’m not quite sure,” Wynne replied.


	30. Campside Interactions Part 6

“Kallian,” he asked, “why are you throwing books into the fire?”

“They pissed me off,” Kallian replied with a deep sigh.

“What kind of books were they?” he raised a brow.

“They were the worst novels I have ever read in my entire life!” Kallian replied, “I needed to destroy them!”

“So… you threw them into the fire,” he stated.

“They are being cleansed by the flames of the Maker,” Kallian replied with an air of importance, “don’t worry too much about it Alistair.”

“Right,” he said slowly.

“What made them so bad?” Leliana asked.

“The grammar was terrible,” Kallian replied, “the story pacing was worse, and the cliches! Oh the cliches! They were appallingly cliched!”

“Then why did you buy them?” Zevran asked.

“I thought I needed them in my life,” Kallian shrugged, “I was lied to. I regret my decisions.”

“Who told you that you needed to read them?” Wynne asked.

“The shop keeper,” Kallian frowned, “won’t be going to that shop ever again.”

“’Tis most unlike you to make a mistake like that,” Morrgian stated.

“I’m just as fallible as everyone else,” Kallian replied airily with a wave of her hand.

***

“Kallian,” she said, “if I may have a moment?”

“Yes?” Kallian replied following her, to her tent.

“I have been studying Mother’s grimoire,” she replied, “do you wish to hear what I have found?”

“What did you find?” Kallian asked.

“’Tis… not what I expected, I had hoped for a collection of her spells,” she replied, “a map of the power she commands. But this is not it.”

“Yet you look disturbed,” Kallian furrowed her brows.

“Disturbed? Yes, perhaps that is the right word,” she replied, “one thing in particular within her writings disturbs me. Here, in great detail, Flemeth explains the means by which she has survived for centuries.”

“It… must be really bad,” Kallian said studying her features.

“Flemeth has raised many daughters over her long lifetime,” she explained, “there are stories of these many Witches of the Wilds throughout Chasind legend, yet I have never seen a one, and always wondered why not. And now I know. They are all Flemeth. When her body becomes old and wizened, she raises a daughter. And when the time is right, she takes her daughter’s body for her own.”

“Why would she risk sending you with us then?” Kallian frowned.

“I do not know. Perhaps ‘tis as she said: the darkspawn threaten her as much as they threaten anyone else,” she replied, “or perhaps she believes that this journey will make me more powerful. According to the tome, if the… host… is already powerful and trained in magic, it takes far less time for Flemeth to… settle in.”

“But something in all this doesn’t make sense," Kallian said her hand on her chin in thought, “we told her that we planned to go to the Circle right? And her book was at the Circle… She had to have known that you would find it.”

“Meaning… that she may have planned this,” she said finishing her thought for her, “there is only one possible response to this: Flemeth needs to die.”

“How should we go about this then?” Kallian asked.

“I will need your help to do this,” she replied, “if she is slain while I am there, I am not certain that she will not simply be able to take possession of me right there. So obviously I cannot be the one to do it.”

“Do you think she’s still in the Kocari Wilds?” Kallian asked.

“Then you will do this for me?” she asked in surprise.

“Of course,” Kallian replied blankly, “is there a reason I wouldn’t?”

“I do believe she will still be in the Kocari Wilds,” she replied, “confront her, and slay her quickly. I doubt she will truly be dead even then, but it will take her years to find a new host and recover her power… if that is even possible. The thing I must have is her true grimoire. With it I can defend against her power in the future. Everything else in her hut is yours.”

“I’ll have to plot out this detour then,” Kallian replied in thought, “we’ll get to it, though I can’t promise when.”

“…I am grateful,” she replied, “the sooner this can be done, the sooner it will set my mind at ease.”

“Let’s see,” Kallian hummed in thought while walking away, “where are my maps…”

***

“Kallian,” he called as he saw her nose deep in her maps, “there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Okay?” Kallian replied putting her maps down and taking the quill out of her mouth.

“So I’ve been thinking…” he started.

“Are you telling me that I should mark this on the calendar?” Kallian asked confused.

“No, no,” he frowned, “just… back when we left Goldanna’s, you told me I needed to look out for myself more than I do. I’m beginning to think you were right.”

“Because it’s true,” Kallian nodded, “you need to stand up for yourself more. There will come a time where you need to stand on your own. As you are now… Mother is worried.”

“You are not my mother,” he replied blankly, “but, yes, I need to stop letting everyone else make my decisions for me. I need to take a stand and think about myself for a change, or I’m never going to be happy.”

“Fine, Big Sister is worried then,” Kallian replied, “and yes, you need to stand up for yourself, you need to be able to rely on yourself more. Be more confident in yourself, I know you can.”

“I’m older than you,” he replied, “and I just wanted to say thank you… you’ve been a great friend through all of this, the second brightest spot in everything that’s happened.”

“Nuances,” Kallian replied before grinning, “and I take it Elissa’s the brightest spot?”

“Yes,” he replied, “that she is.”

“We’ll probably drop by Redcliffe again soon,” Kallian stated, “I want to give them an update on what we’ve found about Brother Genitivi’s research, also I’m thinking of heading to the Frostback Mountains next, and we need to go back to the Kocari Wilds as well, thoughts?”

“Why do we need to go back to the Kocari Wilds?” he frowned, “are we returning Morrigan to her mother?”

“Nah,” Kallian waved her hand dismissively, “we’re killing her mother.”

“What?”

***

“By the way Leliana,” he said in thought, “there was something I wanted to make sure you knew.”

“And what is that, Zevran?” Leliana asked while strumming a tune on her lute.

“Kallian is mine,” he said bluntly.

“Oh? I do not think she’ll agree to that,” Leliana giggled.

“Because I don’t,” Kallian said speaking up from her place by the fire.

“That is rather wily of you, Zevran,” Morrigan said speaking up.

“What is so wily of me, o magical temptress?” he asked.

“Getting in the good graces of the one who decides whether you live or die,” Morrigan replied, “not to mention the one who can protect you against your former comrades.”

“Leli, what do you think of this perfume?” he heard Kallian ask.

“Oh! Orange blossoms?” Leliana gasped, “I think it suits you.”

“Am I supposed to believe you are here because of a… sense of patriotism, perhaps?” he asked.

“Ha! Hardly that,” Morrigan scoffed.

“We all have our reasons for doing what we do,” he shrugged, “mine happen to come with a set of lovely eyes.”

“By the way, Zevran,” Alistair spoke up, halting him in his journey to where Kallian and Leliana were discussing something, that he definitely wanted to be in on, “there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes, Alistair?” he sighed.

“You’re here, at least in part, to get away from the Crows, right?” Alistair asked.

“That is indeed true,” he sighed.

“So when this is over, what do you intend to do with yourself?” Alistair asked, “you can’t go back to Antiva, I assume.”

“What I do depends in large part upon your fellow Grey Warden,” he replied, “I am not a free man, as it were.”

“You are a free man,” Kallian called out, “you dolt.”

“Yes, yes, but what if you could do whatever you wanted?” Alistair asked choosing to ignore her.

“Why should I go anywhere?” he hummed, “you Grey Wardens are the epitome of charm and hospitality.”

“So you do intend to go back to the Crows?” Alistair replied.

“I said no such thing,” he huffed, “I think I should stay where I am. Ferelden is a marvelous country.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Alistair frowned.

“You’re not much of a patriot, are you?” he frowned, “well, I’m not going to listen to such slander of my new home.”

“Your new home?” Alistair replied, “are you even going to be able to get work here?”

“Well,” he replied, “there may be a time where you would become King, no? Perhaps you would have people you need killed?”

“No one said anything about me becoming king,” Alistair frowned, “I’m just a royal bastard, remember? But I suppose if I were, then I would, yes.”

“See? It’s that sort of thinking that makes me think I have a future in this fine country of yours,” he replied.

“That’s assuming I would hire you,” Alistair replied flatly.

“Well, you could also hire Kallian,” he replied cheerily, “we’ll come as a duo.”

“No,” Kallian called out again, “and can you stop talking about me? I’m right over here.”

“But my dear,” he replied, “you’ve already taken on a few assassination jobs, what’s a few more, hm?”

“She what?!” Wynne shouted.

“Zevran,” Kallian chastised, “you weren’t supposed to tell, also it’s helping our end game.”

“Zevran,” Alistair frowned, “I think you need to stop being a bad influence for her.”

“Still right here,” Kallian sighed.

“Just leave them be, Kallian,” Leliana giggled, “come, let’s go play with your hair.”

“Fine,” Kallian sighed before the two went into Leliana’s tent.

“Well, there goes that opportunity,” he sighed.

***

“There was something I wanted your opinion on,” she said as she brushed through Kallian’s hair.

“What’s wrong?” Kallian replied.

“I just… can’t get what happened out of my head. I’d been in Lothering for years,” she sighed, “and she still thought I was plotting against her. She didn’t trust me, maybe she never did… She loved me when she could use and control me, and now that she can’t she wanted me dead. It… hurts to realize that I never really knew her.”

“Some people surprise you,” Kallian replied, turning around to hug her, “and you’re not her, no matter what she said.”

“I knew she was ruthless, but I didn’t know how far she could go,” she sighed turning Kallian back around to braid her hair, “she is self-serving, cruel… she uses people, then discards them, but that’s how she survived in the life she lead… I’m just… What if she were right? What if we’re the same? I… I feel like I should have just stayed in the Chantry.”

“But you’re not the same,” Kallian repeated, “denying your past helps no one.”

“But I was a different person there,” she continued, “I forgot my life as a bard while I was in the cloister, I felt safe. I didn’t have to watch my back all the time. That’s what made Marjolaine the person she is, don’t you see? It ruined her; it will ruin me too.”

“Leliana,” Kallian said, “do you consider us friends?”

“Of course I do!” she replied, “you have always been a good friend to me, and I trust you.”

“That’s where you’re different,” Kallian replied, “you don’t have to watch your back all the time, you have us to look out for you as well.”

“When we killed her… I enjoyed it,” she replied, “seeing her dead gave me satisfaction.”

“Satisfaction at seeing her dead?” Kallian asked, “or satisfaction that you could put your fear of her behind you?”

“Both, I suppose,” she replied in thought, “but, it’s just what we’re doing… what we’ve done— hunted men down, killed them— part of me loves it. It invigorates me and this scares me. I… I feel myself slipping.”

“You’re not slipping,” Kallian frowned, “and holding back too much isn’t good for you. Though of course, doing things in excess is still also terrible.”

“I admit that I took great pleasure in the intrigue back in Orlais,” she admitted, “it was dangerous and chaotic… and exciting, but it destroyed my life. I thought the Chantry showed me another path, I thought I was done with this life… am I wrong?”

“Two working hands can do more than a thousand hands clasped in prayer,” Kallian hummed, “you are on a different path. You’re doing good work, the things we do are out of necessity, not want. You’re using the skills you learned for this, helping us fight and stop the Blight, or do you think that this isn’t a worthy endeavor?”

“No, no,” she replied quickly, “it isn’t that… it’s just, there’s a thought that floats into my mind, constantly— that I lie when I say the Chantry gave me peace when in truth it… it bored me… Here, with you… knowing the freedom of the road, and the uncertainty of tomorrow… I feel alive again.”

“Feeling alive is a good thing,” Kallian nodded, “also, I’d rather have something I love doing than nothing at all, personally. You may have similarities, but you have to remember that there are still differences.”

“I see…” she hummed, “I have never thought about it that way… I would like some time to think on this.”

“Of course,” Kallian replied, “just don’t over think it, over thinking things blind sides you to the positives.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, “by the way, what do you really think of Zevran?”

“I wish he would stop confusing me,” Kallian replied flatly.

“Confusing you?” she asked, “confusing you how?”

“I don’t know, it’s weird,” Kallian frowned, “and I don’t know if I like it or not. I’m leaning towards not though.”

“Now who’s the one denying herself?” she giggled.

“Leli, no,” Kallian replied, “Leli, stop.”

“But your face is so red!” she replied.

“No, it’s not,” Kallian argued.

“But it’s true!” she laughed.

“No, it’s not,” Kallian said burying her face in her hands, “it’s just… a trick of the light.”

“Sure it is,” she teased.

***

Suddenly Kallian held her hand up indicating that they stop, crouching down behind a bush.

“What is it?” he said lowly.

“That man,” Kallian pointed, “he was part of King Cailan’s honor guard.”

“He looks like he’s in trouble,” he nodded, “we need to help him. They could be Loghain’s men.”

“Well,” Kallian said pushing him down the hill, “off you go then.”

“HEY!” he shouted up at her, as Leliana started to provide cover fire.

“Kallian,” Leliana said once the fighting was done, “that was mean.”

“I was feeling a little mischievous,” Kallian replied bandaging up honor guard.

“Is this because of all the times we talked about you when you’re right there?” he frowned.

“Maybe?” Kallian grinned, “but I trusted that you’d be able to handle it. I wouldn’t recklessly throw you into danger. What kind of tactician do you think I am?”

“The kind who was supposed to be a wife,” he replied flatly, “not a warden.”

“Older Sister is sad…” Kallian sighed wiping a fake tear from her eye, “to think you thought I would wish harm upon my dearest honorary brother…”

“Thank you,” the man spoke up interrupting them as he came to, “I… didn’t expect the Bann’s men to notice my escape so quickly. I tried to hide here in the woods, but there wasn’t time. And now I’m a dead man.”

“Elric, right?” Kallian replied, “what do you mean there was no time?”

“You were there, in Ostagar,” Elric replied, “you saw how things went. For me, it was either this, or die in some darkspawn’s belly…or be hung as a deserter. You were there with the Grey Wardens. One of Duncan’s new recruits, we spoke a little.”

“That we did,” Kallian nodded.

“King Cailan was my friend, understand? Maker… All that time in Bann Loren’s prison and I couldn’t stop thinking about all they suffered that one dark night at Ostagar,” Elric explained.

“It’s not your fault they died,” he replied.

“I know,” Elric sighed, “even had Loghain’s men not turned their backs on us, the darkspawn were too many. Even Cailan, for all his bravado, knew there would be no victory at Ostagar.”

“What?!” he said in shock.

“The king entrusted me with the key to the royal arms chest,” Elric replied, “if anything were to happen to him, he said, it was vital I deliver it to the Wardens.”

“The royal arms chest… it’s where Cailan kept his father’s sword,” he said, “the one he always said he’d slay the archdemon with.”

“More than that,” Elric replied, “there was a secret compartment where he kept documents concerning his dealings with Empress Celene and the Orlesians.”

“Why didn’t he give it to Duncan?” Kallian asked.

“He didn’t get the chance, Duncan was so busy with the new recruits and keeping Loghain at bay,” Elric replied, “whatever his reasoning it’s me Cailan entrusted it to.”

“I know it…” Kallian whispered quietly, “Alistair you can ask me about it later.”

“Fine,” he narrowed his eyes at her, “do you still have the key?”

“The Maker has a sense of humor, doesn’t he?” Elric replied, “I suppose it’s for the best, however— had I kept it, it would be in Bann Loren’s hands by now.”

“But you said Cailan entrusted it to you!” Wynne replied, “and I expect answers later as well, young lady.”

“I was afraid, I thought I would lose it on the battlefield,” Elric explained, “so I stashed it in the camp. Please— it’s probably still there.”

“Where?” he asked.

“The key’s behind a loose stone in the base of a statue,” Elric replied, “I’ll draw a map for you so you’ll know where to search.”

“Perhaps you should recuperate a little?” Kallian stated.

“No, it needs to be done now,” Elric replied struggling to sketch the map out, “I won’t survive for much longer. It is vital that the king’s documents do not fall into the wrong hands. As for Maric’s sword, it is too powerful to be pawed at by those monsters. Same for the king’s other arms and armor… and if you happen to find Cailan’s body… see it off. He was our king. He shouldn’t be left to rot amidst the darkspawns filth.”

“I promise you,” he said, “it will be done.”

“Thank you,” Elric replied with his dying breath.

“Call me sentimental, but I left behind some darkspawn that really deserve a sword through the middle,” he said turning to Kallian.

“The events at Ostagar still haunt my thoughts,” Wynne said, “if that is where we are headed, I would like to accompany you.”

“Now explain yourself,” he glared at Kallian.

“Why do you think Cailan wanted to send us both to the Tower?” Kallian asked.

“Isn’t it because you endorsed it?” he frowned.

“It was his suggestion, I simply provided additional reasoning for it,” Kallian tutted, “Cailan wasn’t anymore of a bumbling idiot than you are.”

“I hate how perceptive you are,” he replied.

“He probably saw Loghain’s betrayal coming,” Kallian replied and then pointed her finger straight at him, “and you were his contingency plan.”

“What do you mean…” he asked slowly.

“He meant for you to take over,” Kallian replied, “Duncan kept Loghain distracted enough that he probably didn’t expect it. Also with how Loghain regarded him, he likely saw through all of it. You do that too, don’t you? Pretend to be oblivious and dumb when all it does is allow you to see the truths to peoples personality.”

“I really really hate how perceptive you are sometimes,” he repeated.

“Loghain probably didn’t expect this much from him,” Kallian continued, “didn’t expect him capable of this. Well, that’s all just my conjecture anyway.”

“No… it makes sense,” he sighed, “does this mean Cailan intended I take over the throne? From the beginning?”

“Possibly,” Kallian shrugged, “but like I said, all conjecture. I don’t know any of this for certain.”

“But then why would he also send you?” he asked.

“I… had some circumstances,” Kallian sighed, “that probably would have made him think that sending me with you would be your best shot at survival.”

“…Are you ever going to talk about how Duncan recruited you?” he asked.

“I’m sure the day will come when I’ll have no choice but to,” Kallian replied, “but for now, I’d like to keep that to myself, if you don’t mind.”


	31. Sidetracked

“My dear,” he said sitting next to her, “what do you know about poetry? Antivan Poetry, specifically.”

“Huh?” Kallian replied confused her fingers pausing in her knitting, “next to nothing, why?”

“Trust me,” he chuckled watching her reactions closely, “then you’ll know even less once I tell you this, it was recited to me, as I recall, by a rather wealthy target of mine. Let’s see…  
The symphony I see in thee  
It whispers songs to me  
Songs of hot breath upon my neck  
Songs of soft sighs by my head  
Songs of nails upon my back  
Songs of thee come to my bed.”

“Leli, help,” Kallian called out to her fellow redhead, “I think Zevran’s trying to seduce me with terrible erotic poetry.”

“I couldn’t believe that she thought this would actually convince me to spare her,” he recalled, silently thanking Leliana for choosing to ignore her, “I had sex with her anyway, but that goes without saying. She still had to die. The poem was amusing at the time, however, and thus I’ve always remembered it.”

“So now you’re trying to seduce me with it?” Kallian asked in confusion, “Leli! HELP!”

“Hmmm… now that is a thought isn’t it,” he hummed in thought, “though, personally my preferred methods of seduction are a bit more… tactile.”

“Why are you like this?” Kallian replied jolting away after he blew a breath on her ear.

“I just thought I’d cheer you up with some naughty poetry,” he replied, “you simply look so… unhappy. Such an unflattering expression for such a lovely face.”

“My face isn’t even that lovely,” Kallian stated.

“You’re the kind of woman that stokes the lust in men and other women alike,” he laughed, “surely you know this and are playing with me.”

“Nope,” Kallian frowned, “wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Oh?” he hummed, “but I have.”

He watched in amusement as her face changed to several different shades of red, before she stood up and ran away.

***

“Hey Kallian?” he asked in thought, “if it weren’t for the Blight, and if you weren’t a Grey Warden, what do you think you would be doing?”

“Dead,” Kallian replied easily, “I would be dead.”

“What? Why do you say that?” he asked.

“Well, generally when you’re handed down a death sentence, they kill you,” Kallian replied flatly.

“Wait…” he frowned, “why were you, of all people, handed a death sentence?”

“I wonder that myself,” Kallian hummed, “in any case, what ifs have no place in a world where they’re no longer possible, Alistair.”

***

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “by the way, when we were in Denerim, there was a new story making the rounds, and I was curious if you’d heard it before.”

“What about?” Kallian asked tilting her head.

“The Vengeful Bride of Denerim,” she recounted, “the story goes that on a bright day, an elven woman wearing a tattered wedding dress and covered in blood strode through the market place. Her gaze alone was enough to paralyze weaker minded people, and haunted their dreams. They say that soon after she left the Market, the city guards had found that all the guards in the Arl of Denerims estate, along with the Arl of Denerim’s son dead. Brutally murdered by her hand.”

“Oh?” Kallian hummed, “what happened then?”

“She stood tall, and proudly declared that she had indeed killed all those people,” she continued, “and soon met her death with a smile. I was just wondering if it were true, and if so, if you knew her.”

“If it did happen,” Kallian replied, “it probably would have happened after I left Denerim. I think I’d remember something that momentous happening.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she sighed.

“Hmm… I think that I would have loved to meet this woman,” Zevran grinned, “she sounds both dangerous and exciting!”

“She also sounds dead,” Kallian noted.

“Oh? Jealous?” Zevran asked, “don’t worry, my dear, I’m sure you’re far lovelier than she’ll ever be.”

“Ah ha ha ha ha,” Kallian laughed monotonously.

***

“Alistair,” she called, “is there a reason you’re holding a rose?”

“I... Uh,” Alistair fidgeting, “was thinking of giving it to Elissa. What do you think?”

“Let’s see,” she hummed, “one rose means ‘love at first sight’ I believe.”

“What?!” Alistair shouted.

“Two roses for someone you’re deeply in love with, three roses to say I love you,” she recounted, “the number of roses you give mean different things.”

“Kallian, you know the language of flowers as well?” Leliana asked.

“Flowers have a language?” Alistair asked in confusion.

“Oh yes,” Leliana replied, “do you want me to teach you?”

“Maybe later,” Alistair replied turning several shades of red.

“I’m going to stay in the village proper,” she replied as they entered Redcliffe, “so Alistair, can you go tell them about what we’ve found about the Urn?”

“Oh! Yes!” Alistair replied excitedly, “I’ll get on that, right away!”

“Be careful of your rose! Don’t let the petals fall off!” she called after him before sighing, “they grow up so fast.”

“Kallian,” Zevran sidled up next to her, “you aren’t his mother, I hope you know this. I’m not quite sure I want to be his father.”

“Why would you be the father?” she asked punching him in the side and moving away.

“Because I’m the one wooing you of course!” Zevran replied cheerfully.

***

On their way from Redcliffe to Orzammar, they found a distressed merchant, who gave them a control rod for a golem.

“Should we go take a look?” she asked inspecting the thing.

“Most definitely,” Morrigan replied, “think of all the possibilities!”

“Alright,” she hummed, “I guess we’ll change our route then. Take a look at this village and then go through the Wilds to Ostagar, I think.”

“Having something that doesn’t tire or feel pain might be handy,” Alistair said in thought.

“More useful than you,” Morrigan replied, “by far.”

“Girls, girls,” she sighed, “you’re both pretty.”

“I also think that taking a look would be beneficial for our overall quest,” Wynne said in thought.

“We’re already going,” she replied, “relax.”

“Think of it Zevran,” Morrigan spoke up, “you may have stumbled into a most delightful possibility for your future.”

“Oh? Are you dispensing professional advice, now?” Zevran asked.

“It simply occurs to me that if, say, Alistair were to become king of Ferelden he may have need of someone of your…talents,” Morrigan stated.

“I’m right here you know,” Alistair spoke up.

“From what I know of the fellow, it seems there would be a fair difference between what he needed,” Zevran replied, “and what he cared to make use of.”

“Still right here,” Alistair said.

“If Alistair becomes king, it would certainly not be through any brilliance on his part,” Morrigan replied, “whoever puts him there… now there’s the one who will need you.”

“Hmm… Now that’s an interesting thought,” Zevran hummed, “however, who do you suppose will put Alistair on the throne?”

“Maker’s breath, Kallian I’m so sorry,” Alistair sighed.

“’Twould probably… be Kallian,” Morrigan frowned.

“And do you think Kallian would need assassins?” Zevran asked.

“No,” she replied.

“Well,” Morrigan stated, “it would depend on what capacity Alistair keeps Kallian in.”

“Oh?” Zevran hummed.

“Well, if for instance,” Morrigan explained, “he were to put her in a politically high standing position: she would need a protector.”

“You have such a devious mind, my dear,” Zevran grinned.

“Alistair,” she said, “please don’t put me in a politically high standing position.”

“Blast, and here I was going to make you the Teryna of Gwaren,” Alistair sighed, “well if it’s by the order of the Crown, can you really decline it?”

“I hate you all,” she grumbled.

“Alistair,” Zevran said, “if we are to continue being friends: you will do it.”

“Leli,” she whined, “they’re bullying me.”

“Oh? But I think you would do quite well in politics,” Leliana replied, “you are already very kind, noble, smart, and courageous. You are already such a good leader, there’s no way it wouldn’t be beneficial for Ferelden.”

“Why have you forsaken me?” she said pitifully.

“It might take you a while to get used to it,” Wynne said in thought, “but I also think that you’ll rise to the occasion marvelously.”

“I yield,” she said throwing up her hands, “I submit, do what you will.”

“Fantastic,” Alistair beamed, “you’ve just become the future Teyrna of Gwaren.”

“Why Teryna of Gwarren?” she asked.

“Because it’s Loghain’s,” Alistair replied, “and because I said so.”

“I suppose I could move the Denerim alienage there,” she hummed in thought, “and we could establish better trade with the Dalish…”

“See! You’re already thinking of it!” Alistair cheered.

“And since it’s a port you’ll definitely need my help!” Zevran cheered, “who knows what assassin’s will be sent after you.”

“We still have to end the Blight first,” she sighed.

“Spoilsport,” Alistair sighed.

***

“Hmm,” Kallian frowned.

“What’s wrong? Use the phrase,” Morrigan said.

“But it’s covered in bird droppings,” Kallian sighed, “poor thing... bird seed? Gross… pigeons are so…filthy.”

“Great,” he sighed, “nice observation. Now say the phrase.”

“Dulef gar,” Kallian said.

“Wonderful,” Sten said, “now we have officially wasted our time.”

“No, I refuse to leave this as it is,” Morrigan replied, “there must be some way to activate it.”

“Alright, let’s see if we can find… something then,” Kallian sighed.

***

“Hug Zevran,” she commanded pointing at Zevran.

“I don’t appreciate foreign objects invading my personal space,” Zevran sighed, “usually, anyway. Is this pay back for all the teasing?”

“Nooo,” she replied, “you simply looked like you needed a hug.”

“You could have just given me one yourself,” Zevran replied flatly.

“No way,” she hid behind Leliana.

“I feel…nothing,” the golem said in surprise, “I feel no compulsion to carry out its command. I suppose this means the rod is… broken?”

“So now you have free will,” she replied, “what will you do now?”

“I have no idea, I have no memories beyond watching this village for so long,” the golem replied, “I have no purpose… I find myself at a bit of a loss. What about it? It must have awaken me for some reason, no? What did it intend to do with me?”

“Kill a lot of darkspawn,” she replied, “stop a Blight, that kind of stuff. But I’m not really comfortable ordering you around like that so…”

“I suppose I have two options, do I not?” the golem said in thought, “go with it or… go elsewhere? I… do not even know what lies beyond this village.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” she asked.

“I watched this village for so long, unable to move or act,” the golem replied, “my memories of anything before are… vague at best. So I have no idea what I want to do. I am glad to be mobile, is that not enough?”

“You’re welcome to come with us,” she hummed digging out a square of cloth from her pack, she poured a little water on it and then started wiping away some of the bird droppings.

“Are you certain you want to bring that thing with us?” Alistair said slowly, “it could be dangerous. And large.”

“Well, thank you Captain Obvious,” she frowned.

“What is it doing?” the golem finally asked her.

“Oh,” she said and backed off, “sorry, I just thought to clean you up a bit… Old habits and all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” the golem replied, “I appreciate it. I will follow it about then… for now. I am called Shale, by the way.”

“My name is Kallian,” she bowed her head, “pleased to meet you.”

“This should be interesting,” Shale replied.

***

“So, Kallian,” he said, “I want you to answer me truthfully: are you truly not interested?”

“…I… can’t be,” Kallian replied with a conflicted face.

“Hm? Why not?” he asked.

“Because,” Kallian replied softly, “I care about you too much to do that to you.”

“Do what to me exactly?” he frowned.

“My future is clear,” Kallian smiled sadly, “there is nothing else that can be done about it. And, nothing good ever comes out of getting close to me anyway.”

“Kallian,” he sighed, “why do you always speak as if you’ll die?”

“Everyone dies,” Kallian replied cryptically, “and ignorance is a choice: a choice I didn’t make.”

***

With every shift of her heart, she could feel the claws of guilt grip tighter.

Nothing good would come of it anyway. 

There’ll come a day when she has to pay for her crimes, her failures, her regrets, and she didn’t want to drag anyone else into that mess.

And Zevran was far more fragile than he let on.

***

“I understand the swamp witch is out to slay its own mother?” Shale asked.

“Entirely in self-defense,” she replied.

“So it claims,” Shale replied, “it could not have been its plan from the very beginning, then.”

“I knew nothing about my mother’s…intentions… prior to finding the book,” she replied, “’twas your notion I arranged that?”

“Unnecessary, considering it is the only one who can read the book,” Shale answered, “it could just as well be a journal, or a book of recipes.”

“Would you like me to teach you how to read the book?” she huffed, “then you can see for yourself.”

“Now it is testing me,” Shale replied.

“Well, do you care to learn, or no?” she chuckled.

“No,” Shale answered, “I do not care.”

“Then leave me be,” she replied.

***

“Well, then, Morrigan,” she said, “we’ll be back. Probably. Who knows when though, we need to make a return trip to Ostagar.”

“Be careful,” Morrigan warned, “I do not know what tricks Flemeth will employ. Do not let your guard down, if you do, she will take advantage of it.”

“You be careful as well,” she replied, “I would hate to comeback to find the rest of you dead.”

“And I would hate that you do not come back,” Morrigan replied with a soft smile.

“Do you really think killing Morrigan’s mother is a good idea?” Alistair asked warily.

“We wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t,” she frowned.

“But it’s her mother,” Alistair replied flatly.

“I’d prefer Morrigan to feel safe,” she replied.

“I still don’t understand why you trust her,” Alistair stated, “she’s a colossal bitch.”

“No she’s not,” she laughed, “Morrigan’s a sweetie.”

“A sweetie?” Alistair replied flabbergasted, “her? Are we talking about the same Morrigan?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“She has such a barbed tongue though,” Wynne sighed warily.

“She doesn’t trust easily,” she stated, “she’s cautious. A smart life decision, if you ask me.”

“I still find it hard to believe that you two get along,” Alistair sighed, “you two are like polar opposites.”

“Maybe that’s why they get along so well,” Zevran replied.

***

“What does the swamp witch think the Grey Warden’s chances are?” Shale asked.

“If it were simply Alistair,” she replied, “none. However, with Kallian, very high.”

“The swamp witch holds the superior Grey Warden in very high regard,” Shale noted.

“As do you, ‘twould seem,” she chuckled, “’superior Grey Warden?’”

“One of them is clearly better than the other,” Shale snorted, “it’s not very hard to see that.”

“And that,” she replied, “is very true.”

***

“SHE TURNED INTO A DRAGON!” Kallian yelled after they’d defeated Flemeth.

“Yes,” he replied flatly, “we all saw.”

“I have feelings about that,” Kallian frowned, “and I’m not quite sure what they are.”

“Well, take your time to sort it out,” Wynne replied, “we’ve yet to return to Ostagar.”

“Well I suppose we needed practice fighting dragons,” Kallian said calming down, “since the archdemon is a giant dragon.”

“Good point,” he replied.

***

“Something about returning here makes me feel old, Wynne,” Alistair said.

“It’s cold,” she stated, “why is it so cold? Why is there snow?”

“And what exactly are you implying Alistair?” Wynne frowned.

“I can see my breath,” she said, “why can I see my breath?”

“What? Nothing!” Alistair panicked, “I just thought…”

“You just thought I might be an expert at feeling old,” Wynne sighed, “and could share some sage advice?”

“There are ways to stay warm,” Zevran grinned.

“No thank you,” she replied.

“I just mean, that I was a different person then,” Alistair sighed, “I believed in him, you know? That it would be a glorious battle, that we’d win.”

“I did too,” Wynne replied, “we were all a little bit younger the last time we were here.”

“Well, not you,” Alistair replied, “you’ve always been old.”

“…Alistair,” she said blankly, “I think you need lessons on how to talk with women.”

“Indeed,” Wynne frowned, “with lip like that, son, you’ll be lucky if you live to be half my age.”

“I could certainly give you some,” Zevran replied.

“No, you will not,” Wynne replied, “you will not corrupt this young man. You’ve already had far too much of an influence on Kallian.”

“Corrupt is such a strong word,” she replied.

“I agree,” Zevran said, “and truthfully? I think she’s having a far bigger impact on me than I am on her.”

“Aw, is that true?” she asked, “that’s so sweet of you to say.”

“You two are getting disgusting,” Alistair replied flatly.

“Lesson one: Don’t call a woman disgusting,” she replied.

“I wasn’t just talking about you, though,” Alistair replied.

“With lip like that, young man,” she said, “you’ll be lucky if you make it back to the others.”

“Did you speak often with Cailan?” Wynne asked.

“You’re asking me if I have a relationship with my ‘brother’, aren’t you?” Alistair sighed.

“Yes,” Wynne nodded, “I wonder what he thought of you.”

“I didn’t think he cared much about my existence,” Alistair replied in thought, “I didn’t think I meant anything to him. Until Kallian came along.”

“That’s me,” she spoke up, “I’m a helper.”

“Anyway, to answer your original question, no,” Alistair recounted, “we never spoke. Well maybe once. Maric and Cailan had come to Redcliffe to visit the arl. I was very young then. We were introduced. I believe I said, “greetings, your Highness.” And he said “Ooooh! Swords!” and ran off to the armory.”

“Something I feel you would do,” Zevran noted.

“Well, that was the extent of our relationship,” Alistair shrugged, “we drifted apart after that. Very sad.”

“Can’t change the past,” she replied, “but you can change how the future will play out.”

“Yes,” Zevran replied flatly, “so I would appreciate it if you stopped speaking as if you’ll die.”

“I look forward to eternal rest,” she smiled.

“I’m thinking that you need to be more optimistic,” Zevran sighed.

“I’m optimistic in the relief death will bring,” she replied.

“Braska! Not like that!” Zevran frowned.

“The one who was sent to assassinate us,” Alistair replied, “is the one who is trying to give you a reason to live. I don’t know how to feel about this.”

“Strange,” Zevran replied, “I know.”

***

“What is the matter, Alistair?” Wynne asked.

“That is quite the face you have,” Kallian noted.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “it just feels wrong to find this here, pawed over by darkspawn and thick with their rot. It was his.”

“I know. I feel it, too,” Wynne sighed, “but he is not the first king to ever fall in battle. Or even the first to fall to darkspawn.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “but this wound cuts deeper.”

“And it will bleed longer, but we must keep moving,” Wynne warned, “no doubt the darkspawn are eager to give us plenty more reasons to mourn.”

“We are,” Kallian added, “kind of like catnip for darkspawn.”

“That’s… certainly one way of putting it,” he frowned.

“You know,” Zevran spoke up, “I’ve never been that ‘get between the armies’ kind of guy.”

“Hm? Hey,” Kallian said scooping up something from the ground, “isn’t this the Joining Chalice?”

“It is!” he replied excitedly.

“You can have it,” Kallian replied handing it over.

“For what reason?” he furrowed his brows.

“We'll probably have to rebuild the wardens in Ferelden one day,” Kallian shrugged.

“Then you could hold on to it too,” he replied.

“I’m already carrying too much shit,” Kallian frowned, “do you want this to be the straw that breaks the camels back?”

“Maybe you should sell things more often,” he sighed.

“Oh! Here’s the key,” Kallian said holding up the key.

“Great, now we just need to find the chest,” he replied, “also to finish grabbing Cailan’s gear. I refuse to let it stay with the darkspawn.”

“Alright,” Kallian nodded.

“Isn’t that where Duncan kept his nightly vigil?” Wynne asked.

“Yeah,” Kallian nodded giving a low whistle, “they really did a number to it. I wonder why.”

“Perhaps they could tell how great of a person Duncan really was,” he replied sadly.

“This… is where his tent was… I think,” Kallian hummed, “ah yes, this must be the chest.”

“Let’s see what’s inside,” he replied as he unlocked it.

“You should probably have Maric’s sword,” Kallian said looking over his shoulder, “keep it in the family, yeah?”

“But it’s sexy,” Zevran protested, “and I must have it.”

“No,” Kallian replied.

“So it’s true!” he frowned, after reading through the letters, “he did have Orlesian support against the Blight!”

“And Empress Celene was just waiting for a response!” Wynne frowned.

“And Loghain had another reason to let him die,” Kallian sighed, “he probably thought Cailan was going to abandon Anora… Men are so stupid when it comes to women.”

“Oh?” Zevran asked, “what makes you say that?”

“Whether it be daughters, sisters, mothers, or wives,” Kallian replied, “men always think that they need to protect them.”

“You’ve really been spending too much time with Morrigan,” Wynne sighed.

***

“I remember this tree,” she said placing her hand on the trunk of a tree.

“You… remember a tree?” Alistair asked.

“A bit sentimental, but yes,” she replied.

“Sentimental… how?” Alistair asked.

“This was where I spent my first night at Ostagar,” she replied, “remember? You were looking for me and yelling at the trees like a madman?”

“…Now I remember,” Alistair sighed, “was a wonderful way to spend my morning, really.”

“Oh hey,” she said, “it’s that tower we should have died in.”

“We have a lot of memories about this place,” Alistair replied.

“Well it is where we first met,” she replied, “so of course it’d have some momentous significance on us.”

“I’m beginning to wish I’d been hired to kill you sooner,” Zevran mumbled, “I’m feeling a little left out. Especially since the only one who met you after me was Shale.”

“Oh yeah,” she hummed, “I guess you’re right.”

***

“Is this a good time for me to mention,” Kallian said looking down into a pit, “that I have a fear of being buried alive?”

“Well…” he frowned, “you’d better get over it. Orzammar’s built inside of a mountain.”

“Wonderful,” Kallian sighed, “can I wait outside?”

“No,” he replied, “as the most diplomatic of the group, definitely not.”

“Wonderful,” Kallian repeated, “wait! No! It’ll be good practice for you!”

“No,” he replied, “by order of the crown. Permission denied.”

“You’re not even king,” Kallian grumbled.

“Great… giant spiders,” he sighed.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm I don’t like this,” Kallian whimpered, “spiders should not be this large. I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate normal sized spiders. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hnnnnnnnnng those beady eyes.”

“Keep it together,” he said trying to calm her.

“Get me out of here,” Kallian frowned, “get me out. Get me out. GET ME OUT RIGHT NOW!”

“There it is,” he sighed, “the last of them.”

“It has been a long day,” Wynne replied, “and by the lines around your eyes, I dare say you look as old as I.”

“And if I may say so, milady,” he replied, “you appear to be getting younger by the day.”

“Awwww…” Kallian sighed, “he’s learning.”

“Truly makes you feel like a proud parent, no?” Zevran added.

“Be careful who you flirt with, young man,” Wynne chuckled, “when you wake up beside me tomorrow morning, I’ll be back to reminding you of your grandmother."

“…Beside you?” he wondered.

“You heard what I said,” Wynne replied, “it would not be the first time I woke to a younger man in my bed.”

“Are all women just secretly terrifying?” he asked.

“Mmm…” Zevran hummed in thought, “in my experience, no. Some of them are quite obvious about it.”

“Come on,” he grumbled, “let’s go see Cailan’s body off to the Maker and get back to the others.”

***

“Alistair,” Wynne asked, “are you alright?”

“They left him here to rot,” Alistair sighed, “we need to do something.”

“He’s actually remarkably well preserved considering how long it’s been since Ostagar,” she noted, “the cold and snow must have helped.”

“Just… help me make a pyre,” Alistair replied.


	32. Campside Interactions Part 7

“Kallian,” Alistair called as they reunited with the others, “here, I think… I think Duncan would’ve wanted you to have these.”

“His…weapons?” she tilted her head, “are you sure you wouldn’t rather keep them?”

“No, I think you should have them,” Alistair shook his head.

“I’m honored,” she lied with a smile, “thank you.”

***

“Morrigan,” Kallian called as they returned to them, “it’s done.”

“Oh?” she said excitedly, “were you successful?”

“Of course,” Kallian grinned, “was there any real doubt?”

“Were it only Alistair,” she replied, “yes.”

“Here,” Kallian said handing her the grimoire.

“Ahh, Mother’s real grimoire, is it?” she gasped, “I am glad you were able to find it after all. My thanks for retrieving it. I shall begin studying it immediately and unlock the power that it holds.”

“Yes,” Kallian replied with a frown, “it did seem like she expected this would happen though…”

“Yes, however, now I have enough time to study Mother’s grimoire to find a way to prevent her from stealing my body in the future,” she replied, “and if I cannot protect myself, one day I will track her down again in whatever body she inhabits… and she will die, and again if need be. But there is no need to think of such things now. I have you to thank for saving me.”

“You know you can always rely on me, right?” Kallian replied with a grin.

“You… too much could happen in days to come to… make such promises,” she replied struggling to get the words out, “yet, I am grateful.”

“Morrigan,” Kallian said with a serious face, “you know, don’t you?”

“Know what?” she asked, making sure they were alone with no one else around them.

“How to end the Blight,” Kallian sighed.

“I… how… how did you find out?” she found herself asking in wonder.

“Ignorance is a choice. While we were in Denerim, I realized that I knew next to nothing about the Blight, the books I burned,” Kallian explained, “they were studies on the previous Blights. They all had a common ending: the Warden who struck the final blow ‘died of their wounds’ and were then celebrated as a hero.”

“Did you tell Alistair?” she asked in panic.

“Of course not,” Kallian sighed, “I don’t plan on telling him.”

“Then you…” she stuttered.

“Will end the Blight with my life,” Kallian replied, “as it should be.”

“Why you?” she asked, “is Alistair not the senior warden of the two of you?”

“The place I belong,” Kallian smiled sadly, “no longer exists.”

“Kallian,” she said, “I… am reminded of our first meeting in the Wilds, I had been in animal form for some time, watching your progress. I was intrigued to see such a formidable woman, obviously more potent than the men she traveled with.”

“I was also far less experienced though,” Kallian grinned.

“Yet I resented it when Flemeth assigned me to travel with you,” she continued, “I assumed that, at best, you would drive me from your company as soon as we left the Wilds.”

“Why would I do that?” Kallian replied.

“I…am aware that I have little talent for… forming friendships,” she said, “to put it lightly, ‘tis something I know nothing of, nor even thought I needed. Yet when I discovered Flemeth’s plans, you did not abandon me. Whatever your reasons, you fought what must have been a terrible battle without hope of real reward.”

“Morrigan,” Kallian grinned, “surely you’ve noticed by now, I’m the type that endlessly worries about the people around me. Before my task is done, I’d rather make sure everyone will do fine without me, will have the strength to keep going. Your safety is my reward.”

“And that is what I do not understand,” she replied, “of all the things I could have imagined would have resulted when Flemeth told me to go with you, the very last would have been that I would find in you, a friend. Perhaps even a sister.”

“We’re all just one big dysfunctional family,” Kallian replied.

“I just… want you to know that while I may not always prove… worthy of your friendship,” she replied forcing herself to continue, “I will always value it.”

“I treasure you too, Morrigan,” Kallian smiled brightly.

“Perhaps… in Mother’s grimoire,” she said slowly, “there will be a way for you to survive the Blight.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Kallian laughed, “and it’s no problem. I’ve long since made peace with my death.”

“I will search for it,” she said firmly, “regardless of that.”

“If you insist,” Kallian replied before returning to the others.

In her own heart, she knew that her path was clear.

***

“So, Zevran,” Leliana said from the other side of Kallian, “tell us of your adventures.”

“Hmm, well, now,” he hummed in thought, “what might interest you, I wonder? Shall I describe the stages involved with lanthrax poisoning? I watched a man go through all seven, once.”

“Yelch,” Leliana replied with a grimace, “no, thank you.”

“Hm? Why not?” Kallian replied, “I’ve never seen it.”

“Kallian, you are far too morbid than is healthy, I think,” he chuckled, “but no, I’ll not inflict that upon you just yet.”

“’Yet’ he says,” Kallian replied.

“Let’s see, how about the largest battle I ever took part in?” he replied, “that would have been the slaughter of Prince Azrin. Did you hear of that down in these parts?”

“Of course,” Leliana nodded.

“Nope,” Kallian replied, “you killed a prince?”

“Me? Not personally, but I did take part in the attack,” he replied, “Prince Azrin was fourth in line to the throne, you see. He started off as eleventh, but worked his way up the old-fashioned method, by inheriting control of an entire Crow cell from his grandfather.”

“Inheriting a Crow cell?” Kallian furrowed her brows, “I think… I’m too much of a commoner to understand these things.”

“You won’t be for long,” Alistair replied, “remember? Teyrna of Gwarren?”

“Shut up you royal bastard,” Kallian clicked her tongue, “not even king and already abusing your authority.”

“You love it,” Alistair laughed.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kallian replied flatly, “so what happened?”

“Well, after assassinating his way through the royal family,” he continued, “the king hired three other cells to take down Prince Azrin once and for all. I was in one of those cells.”

“Is this kind of thing common in Antiva?” Kallian asked.

“Antivan royalty is very much bound up in the Crows,” he explained, “you wouldn’t want it run by a bunch of commoners, after all, would you? And this means they get involved in politics quite often. This particular fight nearly bankrupted the nation, I understand. It almost ended up putting a Crow on the throne, a commoner… but that’s a whole different story. I played a very small part.”

“What did you do?” Leliana asked.

“My part in the entire battle was taken up trying to reach Princess Ferenna, who had thrown in with her brother,” he recounted, “I killed about eleven of her guards personally before I got knocked out of a window.”

“No way!” Kallian laughed, “was it a window on the first floor or something?”

“I landed in the river and nearly drowned,” he sighed, “I was fished out by some urchins who robbed me blind. Made off with my boots too. At least they didn’t cut my throat.”

“Not a very glorious moment,” Kallian replied.

“And that was my part in history,” he finished.

“I suppose, on some level,” Leliana said, “you are a very lucky person.”

“It’s true,” he laughed, “I live a charmed life. One of the prostitutes that raised me was a fortune teller. Said I wouldn’t die young. She was rather startled by that. But there you go, tale told.”

“Do you have any interesting stories, Kallian?” Leliana asked.

“Nope,” Kallian replied, “I’m afraid not. I’m just a regular ordinary girl from a regular ordinary family.”

“Lying is a sin, my dear,” he replied.

“Well, I used to be,” Kallian sighed.

***

“Zevran,” she called finding him alone, “I need to ask something of you.”

“Oh?” Zevran asked, “what is it that you need of me, o’ magical temptress?”

“It’s about Kallian,” she replied, “I need you to make her fall in love with you.”

“…What?” Zevran stared at her in bafflement.

“It is important,” she insisted, “you must succeed.”

“Is there a reason for this?” Zevran frowned.

“I have a feeling,” she replied, “that she is going to come to her breaking point soon. And as she is now, I’m not certain she will survive it. She may physically survive it, but… I fear that her heart will not.”

“Well,” Zevran sighed, “I’ve already been attempting that, as you can probably tell.”

“Well,” she said in frustration, “try harder! You care for her, do you not?”

“I… do,” Zevran replied, “but I’m not quite sure that this is as easy of a task as you think it might be.”

“You must succeed,” she repeated before walking away, “and do not tell her I asked this of you.”

***

“So, Kallian,” he said, “I’m thinking we should go to Haven before Orzammar.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Kallian asked.

“Because, we’re closer to Haven,” he replied, “we can go to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, return to Redcliffe, cure the arl, and then head to Orzammar. I think that that should be our future plan.”

“Awww,” Kallian replied, “you’re learning, good job Alistair. I was thinking about that as well.”

“Stop treating me like a child,” he frowned, “anyway, so our next step is set then?”

“That it is,” Kallian agreed.

***

“Kallian,” he decided to ask, “what is that song you’re singing?”

“It’s a nonsensical song about nonsense,” Kallian beamed.

“I understood that when you sung the words ‘what did I have for lunch today?’,” he frowned, “but why does such a song exist?”

“For fun?” Kallian shrugged, “my cousin and I loved singing nonsensical songs.”

“I see…” he frowned in thought.

“There was also something else I wanted to know,” he said, “why are you called Grey Wardens?”

“Isn’t it because we stand between the blackness of the Blight and the whiteness of not Blight?” Kallian replied in thought.

“That does make sense,” he replied, “that is true.”

“Right?!” Kallian replied excitedly.

“…So you aren’t actually sure,” he frowned.

“Oops,” Kallian laughed nervously, “well I wasn’t exactly told why either, Sten. I didn’t even really know about them before I was recruited.”

“You joined the order not knowing what they were?” he furrowed his brows.

“Well… It wasn’t by choice,” Kallian replied.

“Oh? We have that in common then, don’t we?” Zevran piped in.

“I suppose so,” Kallian shrugged.

“You didn’t know of the Grey Wardens,” Zevran replied, “and I didn’t know of the Crows.”

“I suppose you could say that they paid for my life,” Kallian hummed in thought, “they stole me from the jaws of death, as it were… We also had an initiation that not everyone survived as well.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Zevran asked.

“Yeah, the two other recruits that joined along with me died,” Kallian replied.

“Kallian,” Alistair frowned, “secrets!”

“Oh come on,” Kallian huffed, “that’s such a stupid rule!”

***

“So here is a question for the painted elf…” Shale began.

“Painted elf?” he asked, “Oh, is that me? I do like that.”

“The other elf is the superior warden,” Shale replied, “am I to understand correctly that the painted elf is a ‘crow’?”

“Not literally,” he replied, “but yes. I am a Crow.”

“As in a bird,” Shale stated.

“Is there another sort?” he asked.

“So the painted elf assaults helpless statuary with its feces?” Shale asked.

“If given sufficient cause, why not?” he replied.

“Ewwww,” Kallian groaned, “gross! That’s disgusting!”

“I knew there was a reason I liked the superior warden,” Shale replied.

***

“You must know,” Wynne said, “that murder is wrong, I assume.”

“I’m sorry… are you speaking to me?” Zevran replied confused.

“That is why you wish to leave your Crows,” Wynne replied, “a crisis of conscience.”

“Yes, that is exactly it,” Zevran replied.

“Joke if you wish,” Wynne scoffed, “but I have the feeling that deep down you regret the life you have lived.”

“It’s true,” Zevran sighed, “I regret it all.”

“Must you be such a child?” Wynne chastised, “are you incapable of a single serious conversation?”

“I know. I am terrible,” Zevran replied, “and it makes me sad. Kallian, may I rest my head in your bosom? I wish to cry.”

“No,” she replied.

“Did I tell you I was an orphan?” Zevran asked, “I never knew my mother.”

“Yes,” she replied, “gloves, remember?”

“But I would rather cry in your bosom,” Zevran stated.

“In any case,” she sighed in frustration, “Zevran isn’t a murderer. He’s more like… a merchant.”

“A merchant?” Wynne replied in confusion, “in what way is he a merchant?”

“He just deals in lives,” she shrugged, “…why are you hugging me?”

“Because I wanted you to know that I appreciate you,” Zevran replied.

“Okay,” she rolled her eyes, “sure. Whatever. In any case I’m sure there would be people who consider me a murderer.”

“And what is the difference between murder and assassination?” Wynne frowned.

“Ones a profession, the other’s done for no good reason,” she replied.

***

He found himself staring at Kallian thoughtfully, a lot more frequently lately. Especially after what Morrigan had asked of him.

But what is love truly? What exactly did it even mean to love someone? Would he even be capable of it? Especially after…

But he could also make sure that the past didn’t repeat itself this time.

But could love even truly save someone?

He knew she meant something to him, he knew that he felt a connection between them.

But then personality wise Kallian had a lot in common with Rinna, was he just projecting his feelings for Rinna on her?

No, Kallian and Rinna are very very different people.

Kallian has more of a calming effect on people, nurturing, kind, generous, considerate, and she had both strength and intelligence in spades.

How strange… he didn’t feel as bothered by thoughts of Rinna anymore.

“Kallian,” he finally called her name, “there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What did I do now?” Kallian asked.

“…What did you do that you’re worried about?” he replied.

“Nothing, nothing,” Kallian hummed.

“There’s something… someone,” he said, “that I wanted to tell you about.”

“Okay?” Kallian replied following him.

“I wouldn’t have spoken about it before,” he started, “but you… with you I think I’ll be able to speak of it.”

He watched her look at him curiously, she was always like that, genuinely paying attention to every word spoken to her, never judging others on their views. She understood and accepted every single thing about a person, treated every moment and conversation as if they were precious. Never judged people on their pasts, presents, or futures.

There were so many qualities she had that he adored.

“There is a reason I accepted this mission in Ferelden,” he explained, “far away from home, and it had nothing to do with any thought that I might leave the Crows. Meeting you, after all, was quite an accident. My last mission before this one… did not end well.”

“What happened?” Kallian asked.

"You must realize that until that day, I was cocky and arrogant,” he continued, “I was the best Crow in Antiva, I believed, and I bragged of my conquests often… both as a Crow and a lover.”

“Have a sat,” Kallian replied sitting down and patted the grass next to her.

Confused, he obliged, and then found himself being dragged down so that his head was in her lap.

“I always find it more comfortable talking about things like this,” Kallian hummed brushing her fingers through his hair, “it’s calming isn’t it?”

“I… was often told I was insufferable…” he continued, “right before I ended up in bed with someone. Such as it was.”

“I can imagine,” Kallian replied wryly.

“One of the Crow masters grew tired of my boasting,” he replied, “my bid for an incredibly difficult mark was accepted, much to my surprise: a wealthy merchant with many guards and completely silent. Tailiesen agreed to be part of my team… what’s wrong?”

Her fingers froze and she was staring at him in shock.

“Oh, sorry, sorry,” Kallian apologized, “please, continue.”

“Taliesen as well as an elven lass named Rinna,” he continued, “she was… a marvel. Tough, smooth, wicked… Eyes that gleamed like justice. Everything I thought I desired.”

“And you fell in love,” Kallian replied somberly.

“She was special, I had closed off my heart,” he nodded, “but she touched something within me. It frightened me.”

“Strong emotions are terrifying,” Kallian sighed.

“Oh? You have some experience with them?” he asked.

“Mm,” Kallian hummed with a far off look, “I was once so happy I thought I could die… and then the despair I felt after wards… probably broke me.”

“The man you loved?” he asked.

“Yes,” Kallian replied softly, “I really, truly loved him… Even if we weren’t meant to be.”

He was still irritated, but that man wasn’t him, wasn’t alive. The one who foolishly chose a different woman. 

But now? Now the one whose hair she combed her fingers through was his. The one whose lap she was lending was him. The one who was with her right now, was him.

And he knew, that she would never confuse or compare them with each other. He knew that they were both special to her in their own ways.

“How long had you known him?” he found himself asking.

“A month and a half,” Kallian laughed, “I’m an idiot for falling for someone so quickly. But we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.”

“Taliesen had revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the merchant,” he continued, “told him of our plan, I readily agreed that she needed to pay the price and allowed Taliesen to kill her. Rinna begged me not to, on her knees with tears in her eyes, she told me she loved me and had not betrayed us. I laughed in her face and said that even if it were true, I didn’t care.”

“But you did,” Kallian replied.

“I convinced my myself that I didn’t,” he replied, “Taliesen cut her throat and I watched her bleed as she stared up at me. I spat on her for betraying the Crows. When Taliesen and I finally assassinated the merchant we found the true source of his information. Rinna had not betrayed us after all.”

“But you had no way of knowing that,” Kallian stated.

“Of course not, I didn’t care to know,” he sighed, “I… wanted to tell the Crows what we had done, our mistake. Taliesen convinced me not to. He said it would be a foolish waste. So we reported that Rinna had died in the attempt. We needn’t have bothered. The Crows knew what we had done. The master who disliked me told me so to my face. He said the Crows knew… and they didn’t care. And one day my turn would come… You once asked why I wanted to leave the Crows. In truth, what I wanted was to die. What better way than to throw myself at the fabled Grey Wardens...”

“And now you’re here,” Kallian hummed, “laying in my lap. Do you still want to die?”

“No,” he replied, “what I want is to begin again. Whatever it is I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it. I owe you a great deal.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Kallian replied before curling her body to look him in the eye, something that was no doubt uncomfortable, “and… I’m so sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked.

“Taliesen,” Kallian said somberly, “is in Ferelden.”

“What?” he asked jolting up before grabbing her shoulders to look her in the eyes, “how do you know this?”

“Master Ignacio,” Kallian replied covering her face in her hands while trembling, “he said that Taliesen was dispatched to take care of you, that you’re his problem.”

“I…” he pulled her into him for a hug.

“You really shouldn’t get involved with me,” Kallian said, “all I seem to be capable of doing is bring sadness and despair.”

“Why do you say things like this?” he asked.

“I… can’t tell you many of the details,” Kallian replied slowly, “but… on the day I felt so happy I could die… I fell down into the deepest pits of despair, and every time I thought I’d hit rock bottom the ground would open up again and I’d fall even more. Over, and over again… Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you the whole story… but that day, is not today.”


	33. Journey to Haven

“Kallian,” he said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve let Alistair take over much of the leadership role for the group. Why is that?”

“I think it’s good for him,” Kallian replied brightly, “and he’s been doing a good enough job. So, I’ve decided to take a step back and just help him when he needs it.”

“Hmm,” he replied, “he has grown more of a backbone lately.”

“Right?!” Kallian grinned, “mother is so proud.”

“You are not his mother,” he frowned.

“Nuances,” Kallian replied, “don’t worry, Sten. I won’t let him lead us off a cliff.”

“You’d better not,” he replied.

***

“Kallian,” he called after much deliberation, “I need to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Kallian replied.

“Can you teach me about… you know… strategies and tactics?” he asked.

Kallian just stared at him blankly.

“Or you could not, I suppose,” he added hastily, “if you don’t want to.”

“Alistair,” Kallian grinned at him mischievously and it made him regret this decision a little, “of course I will! I thought you’d never ask!”

“So you will?” he asked hopefully.

“I’m going to work you like a horse though,” Kallian replied with that unsettling grin.

“Okaay?” he replied uncertainly as she began tossing things at him, a book, a quill, and an ink pot, “wait… Kallian this book is empty.”

“Of course it is,” Kallian replied, “you’re going to fill it. I personally find it easier to memorize things when I write them down. Also, I don’t think you’re much of a book learner, I’d peg you more for a visual learner.”

“What?” he asked.

“Different people learn better in different ways,” Kallian explained, “for instance: Sten, Leliana, Zevran, and I learn better with a more hands on approach: we need to do the thing otherwise it’s hard. Morrigan, and Wynne are book learners: they can read the thing and conceptualize it and then put it into practice.”

“Are you sure you’re a Grey Warden?” Sten asked, “you should be a Tamassran.”

“A what?” Kallian tilted her head.

“They’re teachers of the Qun,” Zevran answered, “they raise and evaluate children. Or so I’ve been told.”

“Oh,” Kallian replied in thought, “yeah I could see where you’d think that. But I’m multi-talented.”

“True,” Sten replied, “sometimes I do not know whether you would be a Tamassran or a Ben-Hassrath: a religious enforcer.”

“Probably a Tamassran,” Kallian shrugged, “I actually don’t like bloodshed and violence. I prefer diplomacy.”

“So… lesson?” he asked.

“Firstly: why do you think it’s important for us to gather allies and amass an army?” Kallian asked pointing a finger at him.

“Because… we’re just seven people against the entirety of the Blight?” he asked.

“Partly,” Kallian nodded, “however, a land divided is also a land easily conquered. Divide and conquer as they say. Secondly: Numbers dictate the outcome. How many darkspawn do you think you could take down on your own before you died?”

“Uhh I don’t know, ten? Fifteen?” he replied in thought.

“How many do you think I could?” Kallian asked.

“Probably the entire Blight, honestly,” he replied seriously.

“You have far too much confidence in my abilities,” Kallian replied wryly, “depending on which darkspawn I faced, I might only last against five.”

“Five?!” he replied in shock, “you?! Five?!”

“Mmhmm,” Kallian replied, “because I’m a melee rogue. I don’t have the stamina or strength to carry around the same amount of armor you do. On top of that, if there’s a mage or an archer thrown into the mix? I don’t imagine myself lasting very long, unless some conditions are met anyway.”

“What kind of conditions?” he asked.

“If I’m protecting someone who can only rely on me,” Kallian explained, “then I’ll probably last far longer. It also depends on the terrain, if it were a forest, I could cloak myself within the shadows and take them out quietly, in a corridor… I suppose if I can time a good slide under some spells or arrows I could handle it. But the problem is that I need to get close: if I can’t get close I’m dead, deader than dead in fact. Zevran has the same problem I do. Morrigan, Wynne, and Leliana are screwed if they get too close. Sten and Shale on the other hand could last longer. But those ogres throw rocks too so not too sure how Shale would fare.”

“And?” he asked.

“King Cailan’s army fell at Ostagar, it’s true that Loghain’s betrayal had a hand in it,” Kallian continued, “however, you heard Elric: Cailan knew Ostagar was lost.”

“So wait… do we actually have any hope?” he frowned.

“Of course!” Kallian exclaimed, “like I said! Numbers! Dictate! The! Outcome!”

“Which means?”

“There’s always a golden ratio to these things: for example, the best child to adult ratio is around twenty,” Kallian replied, “also, Cailan’s army was just the Ferelden standing army. We’re calling in the cavalry from everywhere we can.”

“The Dalish, Mages, and Dwarves,” he replied.

“Yes,” Kallian nodded, “each group specializes in different fighting techniques, and securing aid from Orzammar would be the most beneficial since they have the most experience in dealing with the darkspawn.”

“Why do you know so much?” he asked.

“I spent a lot of time staring at the sky,” Kallian shrugged, “lost in thoughts. Staring at that blue freedom. Also, a lot of things are second nature. Do you really think I’m only concentrating on weaving baskets, sewing, knitting, or cooking? No way, my mind goes miles away.”

“How far are we talking?”

“Who on earth decided that they should eat the thing that came out of a chicken’s arse?” Kallian replied furrowing her brows, “who decided it would be a good idea to jump in the thing that you’ll drown in because you can’t breathe? What kind of idiot would eat something someone else found poisonous? How did we even discover these things? Why are these even things?”

“Okay,” he said holding up a hand, “miles. I see that now.”

***

And so Alistair had stolen most of the opportunities he had to talk to Kallian, as she was busy giving him lessons every night on their way to Haven.

He had to give them both credit though, she’d made their lessons surprisingly easy to comprehend, and Alistair was learning very quickly.

But still it irritated him that she’d been stolen from him.

“Oh?” Leliana giggled, “are you feeling jealous, Zevran?”

“Of what?” he asked.

“Alistair stealing Kallian’s attention,” Leliana replied.

He frowned at her in thought.

“No, he needs the lessons,” he sighed.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t feel lonely,” Leliana hummed, “hey Kallian?”

“What’s up Leliana?” Kallian replied.

“You just certainly seem more at home teaching than fighting,” Leliana replied.

“It’s something I did often,” Kallian nodded, “though I’ve never had to teach someone strategy and tactics. Usually it was more to stop pulling each others hair, say your pleases and thank yous, how to read and write… that kind of stuff.”

“I can certainly imagine you in that role,” Leliana smiled.

And then he had to watch Leliana steal her away too.

He sighed in frustration.

***

“I don’t know how much more I can teach you,” she said finally, “it’s not like I had a ton of experience before all this.”

“But you do so well,” Alistair frowned.

“Because I apply the experience I gained from other places into every situation,” she replied, “optimizing my abilities so that I can maximize my outcome potential.”

“Well we should be in Haven tomorrow,” Alistair noted.

“Mother is so proud,” she said wiping a fake tear from her eye.

“You’re not my mother,” Alistair repeated.

“Should I tell you where babies come from?” she hummed in thought.

“No!” Alistair shouted, “I already had this conversation with Wynne!”

“I see,” she laughed, “in any case, I’ll be following your lead from now on.”

“Err,” Alistair paused, “are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Are you telling me I’m a terrible teacher?” she frowned.

“No! Heaven’s no!” Alistair replied.

“I trust you,” she smiled, “and you should too. But don’t worry, I’ll brutalize you if you mess up.”

“Why brutalize?” Alistair frowned.

“How else am I going to make sure you’ve learned from our lessons?” she replied.

“I don’t like that look on your face when you say that,” Alistair replied.

“If you made me waste my time,” she stated, “I will hurt you.”

“Right, no pressure,” Alistair sighed.

***

True to her word, Kallian let him take the lead while she observed him thoughtfully.

“What are you doing in Haven?” the guard glared, “there is nothing for you here.”

“We have business here,” he replied firmly.

“No, you do not,” the guard replied, “I would have been informed if someone were expecting… a visitor.”

“We are just looking for a man named Brother Genitivi,” he replied, “we must find him.”

“Who? Perhaps Revered Father Eirik will know of whom you speak,” the guard replied, “unfortunately, he is ministering to the villagers at the moment, and cannot be disturbed.”

He heard Leliana, Zevran, and Kallian whispering quietly behind him.

“Revered Father?” he asked.

“It has always been thus in Haven,” the guard glared, “we do not question tradition.”

“Would you mind if we looked around for a while?” he asked.

“We do not appreciate lowlanders ‘looking about’ our home as though it were some sort of zoo,” the guard replied.

“Very well,” he replied keeping civil, “then if you’ll excuse us.”

“You may trade for supplies at the shop if you wish,” the guard grumbled, “then I suggest you and your companions leave.”

“Thank you,” he nodded.

He turned around to see all three of them holding each others hands and looking at him with pride.

“My son has come so far,” Kallian sighed happily.

“Still not your son,” he frowned, “come on let’s go ‘trade for supplies.’”

“Leli,” Kallian said, “I think I’m getting all misty eyed.”

“You did good work, Kalli,” Leliana hummed, “now let’s the three of us do what we do best, hm?”

“Kallian,” Zevran spoke up as they walked past him to find shadows to disappear into, “when will you call me Zev?”

“Who knows?” Kallian replied before they were gone.

Guess he’d better find that supply shop and provide distraction, he sighed before trotting off in the direction the guard had pointed.

This place was far too quiet for his liking, but he knew the other three were off investigating on their own. They’d find him if something bad happened, he trusted in that.

Weird, how he was trusting someone who was sent to assassinate him, and a bard, to save him. Though Kallian would probably yell at him for saying so. He could just imagine her scolding him.

He was asking the shopkeeper about Haven when the three of them burst into the room.

“So, good news: this place is bad news,” Kallian said as Leliana quickly acquainted the shop keepers skull with an arrow, “bad news? Darrian pissed them off.”

Darrian barked angrily.

“How is this place being bad news, good news?” he asked drawing his weapons, “oh, wait I know. It’s because that means we’re in the right place.”

“Kallian, this isn’t the time to be feeling like an emotional parent,” Zevran chastised.

“Anyway,” Leliana replied, “we need to head to the Chantry on the hill. I think that’s where the secrets will be hidden.”

“Oh… wait,” Kallian paused, “that smell…”

“This is one of Arl Eamon’s missing knights!” he exclaimed following her.

“We’re definitely in the right place then,” Kallian nodded.

“Plus there was that alter of blood,” Leliana noted, “in that one villagers house.”

“That’s how Darrian pissed them off,” Kallian said, “after you, Alistair.”

“Right!” he replied.

***

This place hurt her. These cultists were just trying to defend their home, coming at them with nothing but their fists.

She felt sick.

“Kallian,” Zevran whispered as they prepared to enter the chantry, “are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t do well with cold climates,” she replied.

And it was true, the cold always made one of her old injuries act up.

“Well,” Leliana sighed, “it seems we were right on the mark about dragon cults.”

“Let’s look around,” Alistair said, “there must be more to this Chantry.”

“A secret, not so secret door,” Zevran whistled, “honestly were they even trying to hide it?”

***

“Wait,” Kallian said before quickly moving towards the injured man on the floor, “that man…”

“Who are you?” the man asked, “they… they’ve sent you to finish it?”

“No, Brother Genitivi?” he replied as Kallian bandaged his wounds, “my name is Alistair, and this is Kallian, and we’ve come to help you.”

“You don’t know how glad I am to see someone who isn’t from this village,” Genitivi groaned, “the legs not doing so well… and I can’t feel my foot.”

Kallian began digging through her pack, looking for a balm.

“Ugh, Zevran,” Kallian grumbled and threw a pair of boots at him, “be a dear and hold on to these for me.”

“Kallian,” Zevran frowned, “I’m claiming these boots.”

“What? Why?” Kallian asked applying the balm.

“Because they’re Antivan Leather!” Zevran replied.

“Thank you,” Genitivi coughed, “that feels much better.”

“How can you tell?” Kallian asked.

“Because that smell! I would know that anywhere,” Zevran chuckled, “I don’t know how you found these, but thank you.”

“Right… well,” Kallian replied slowly, “knock yourself out.”

“Now if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder, and a corrupt politician,” Zevran laughed hugging her, “I’d really feel like I was home!”

“Fish chowder? Can do. Corrupt politician? Also can do,” Kallian replied, “prostitute? You’re on your own for that one.”

“They fit as well!” Zevran grinned, “marvelous!”

“If you two are done flirting,” he frowned, “we have other things going on at the moment.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Leliana hummed, “I think it’s sweet.”

“Still have more important things,” he replied gesturing to Genitivi.

“We don’t have time to rest now,” Genitivi stated, “we’re so close. The Urn is just up that mountain.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“My research led me to Haven… and I have heard the villagers talking. I know the Urn is here,” Genitivi replied, “Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the Urn. There is an old temple there, built to protect it. The door is locked, but I know what the key is: Eirik wears a medallion that opens the temple door… I’ve seen what he does with it.”

“I’ll go check,” Leliana said before going to search his body again.

“Did you know about the knights the arl sent after you?” Kallian asked.

“Yes,” Genitivi sighed, “of course. How could I forget? Eirik said they were ambushed, some killed, a few brought back to Haven to be questioned. He was so self-righteous about it, so smug. He seemed pleased that he had tortured and murdered those men.”

***

She felt significantly less sick.

“What do you know about them?” she asked.

“They call themselves the Disciples of Andraste, and they are very, very devoted,” Genitivi replied, “one could say fanatically so.”

“Is it this medallion?” Leliana returned.

“Yes, that is your key,” Genitivi replied, “take me to the mountainside, and I will show you.”

“Why were they keeping you here?” she asked as Alistair helped him up.

“They seemed intent on finding out personal information about me,” Genitivi frowned, “where I grew up, things like that…”

“They were planning to place a fake Genitivi in Denerim,” she sighed.

“How do you know?” Genitivi asked in alarm.

“There… was an impostor Weylon,” she replied, “at your house.”

“What happened to the real Weylon?” Genitivi asked in shock.

“We’re sorry,” Alistair replied helping Genitivi walk in the direction he pointed, “he’s gone.”

“Ah… Poor Weylon… I should never have dragged you into this,” Genitivi mourned, “Maker take you to His hands, my boy… He believed in me, even when I lost faith in myself. I will honor his memory.”

“We reported it to the guard,” Leliana replied.

“Thank you,” Genitivi sighed.


	34. Temple of Sacred Ashes

“Are you sure you’ll be alright to stay here like this?” she frowned.

“I could not keep up with you with my injuries,” Genitivi replied, “I should be safe; I don’t think there are any villagers here.”

“Maybe we should call the others,” she hummed, “what do you think leader?”

“Oh! I, uh,” Alistair panicked, “I think that would be a great idea. Could you go do that for me please?”

“You can’t let your guard down just because you think it’s safe,” she said and punched him in the back.

“What?! Why?!” Alistair cried out.

“I did say I would brutalize you,” she replied, “and it’s not like I hit that hard anyway. Do you see these arms? Look how scrawny they are! And that’s WITH armor!”

“Right, well,” Alistair frowned, “get on it.”

“Darrian’s taking care of it,” she replied pointing at his retreating figure.

“Hmmm I’d say that so far,” Zevran hummed, “he’s done a pretty good job of leading. So, like what? A five? On a scale of one to ten?”

“I think a five or six,” Leliana agreed.

“Hmmm,” she closed her eyes in thought, “I’ll with hold my judgments for when this business is over and done with.”

“Since when was I being graded?” Alistair sighed.

“Since the beginning,” she laughed.

“Oh come on, let’s just go. Darrian can find us after he brings the others,” Alistair sighed, “and if we kill everyone we come across we won’t have to worry about anyone getting past us and attacking Genitivi.”

“I think you have just upgraded yourself to a six, my friend,” Zevran grinned.

“Maker’s breath,” Alistair breathed, “look at it all!”

“I can’t believe this is all still standing!” Leliana gasped, “this temple must be thousands of years old!”

“An untouched treasure!” Zevran sighed, “what wonders await us here?”

“It’s cold,” she grumbled, “it’s way too cold. I hate this place.”

“Are you doing alright, my dear?” Zevran asked.

“So, you know that burn scar on my back?” she stretched, “it acts up in cold climates. I put some ointment on it that’ll keep the pain in check but... it’s still annoying.”

“…Should you go back and wait with Genitivi?” Alistair asked.

“No, it’s better I keep moving,” she sighed, “it’ll hurt more if I don’t.”

“I could give you a massage?” Zevran offered.

“This is not the time, place, or occasion,” she replied, “so rejected.”

***

“Old books!” he gasped, “you think any of those might still be readable?”

“Do you think anyone will mind if I borrow a book or two?” Leliana asked.

“No, I don’t,” Kallian replied pacing around as she opened up a book in thought.

“You think any valuable tome might still be in a decent condition?” Zevran asked.

“Kallian,” he frowned, “how can you read like that?”

“Old injury,” Kallian repeated as she continued pacing, “can’t stay still in cold climates. I needed to adapt to my new circumstances.”

“What is that book about?” Leliana asked.

“Old Gods, I think,” Kallian replied, “I also found these super old encrypted scrolls. Given what this place is, I think I’ll donate it to the Chantry when we go back to Denerim… Or maybe give it to Genitivi.”

And then they heard a familiar bark and saw Kallian almost fall down.

“That’s right,” Kallian sighed rubbing Darrian’s ears, “the back of the knees is a good place to hit to topple people. However, I would appreciate it if you didn’t use the tactic on me.”

Darrian simply wagged his tail and barked happily in response.

***

“You know… I’ve always kind of felt bad for Maferath,” she hummed in thought.

“What? Why?” Leliana frowned, “he betrayed Her to the Imperium, which resulted in Her death.”

“Well, I mean,” she explained, “I’d probably honestly feel despair and betrayal if I were also forced to watch the one who I loved constantly ignore me for them. And then being forced to wallow in that? Without anyone to turn to for it? I mean, he probably had no one to turn to. He was a general, he couldn’t be seen as weak, and since he was Her earthly husband he was probably expected to be completely understanding of it, he probably felt so alone and ashamed of his own emotions… And if he did love Her, the one he probably felt jealous of wasn’t Andraste, but rather the Maker, you know?”

“Kallian,” Alistair frowned, “I think you’re too understanding for your own good.”

“I’ve been told that,” she replied wryly, “quite often in fact. But I mean he really was in a shitty situation. It just depresses me that he probably never had anyone to turn to. I mean, I have people I turn to when I’m not at my best, but if I couldn’t? I’d probably go crazy.”

“Enough to betray your wife and lead her to her downfall?” Alistair asked.

“Yes, eventually,” she nodded, “love and hate are opposites, right? But sometimes you love something so much you hate it, so much you want to destroy it. Most people have a healthy balance and are able to release their frustrations before it can get that extreme, but for the people who can’t?”

“Kallian,” Alistair reiterated, “you are too understanding for your own good.”

“It’s probably partly because of her naturally nurturing nature,” Zevran offered, “it is quite alarming how accepting and understanding she is.”

“I’ve always thought that too,” Leliana agreed.

“I’ve been told that it’s one of my greatest strengths as well as my greatest weaknesses,” she furrowed her brows in thought, “actually, I’ve been told a lot of my greatest strengths are also my greatest weaknesses.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” Alistair said slowly.

“I don’t even understand me sometimes,” she sighed.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Alistair frowned.

“Tell me about it,” she groaned.

“Still,” Leliana hummed, “it is something to think about.”

***

“Let me guess,” he sighed, “’we should kill it for practice against the archdemon.’”

“I would… rather we not plan on fighting it,” Zevran sighed, “couldn’t we just… sneak around it?”

He held up his hand signaling Kallian to keep her mouth closed.

“’It’s just a High Dragon, if we can’t kill a High Dragon then how are we going to fight an Archdemon and his darkspawn soldiers,’ right?” he frowned.

“I think I’m getting misty eyed,” Kallian replied, “Mother is so proud.”

“Still not my Mother,” he sighed, “and it’s hard not to learn when you make it so easy to understand.”

“Awww,” Kallian cooed, “that’s so sweet of you to say.”

“I’m beginning to wonder what you’d be like as an actual mother,” Zevran hummed, “a nice thought for the future, certainly something to look forward to, my dear.”

“Have you already decided that you’ll be the father, then?” Kallian sighed loudly.

“But of course! Who else would be?” Zevran replied, pulling her into a hug.

“…Maker’s breath I just imagined it,” Kallian frowned, “what on earth are you doing to me? Leli help.”

Leliana decided to ignore her and hum a merry tune.

“Fine, Alistair, help,” Kallian deepened her frown.

He decided to join Leliana’s humming.

“Shhh just accept it,” Zevran cooed.

“She really is quite adorable when she sulks, isn’t she?” he found himself saying.

“I’ve always said so!” Leliana agreed.

“Okay okay,” Kallian grumbled, “enough sap. Dragon. Now.”

***

“Leli,” she hummed, “you should help Alistair make up a super romantic story for when we return to Redcliffe.”

“Oh? And why would that be?” Leliana asked.

“It’ll make Elissa swoon,” she grinned.

“Kallian… Have I ever told you that you’re my most favoritest sibling ever?” Alistair sighed happily.

“I don’t believe so,” she replied after some thought.

“Well, you are,” Alistair replied, “who needs a shrew of a blood sister when I’ve got you?”

“…Being compared to Goldanna doesn’t exactly make me happy,” she replied wryly, “but I appreciate the sentiment non-the-less.”

“Wait… Kallian,” Alistair paused, causing her to flinch, “am I your most favoritest sibling ever?”

“That’s not fair,” she pouted, “I have Shianni, I have Soris, I have you, I have Leli, I have Morrigan, I have Sten… you can’t make me pick a favorite!”

“Oh? I see that I am missing from that list,” Zevran grinned.

“Why would you be on that list?” she sighed, “siblings can’t fall in love you dolt.”

And suddenly she froze.

“Wait, what?” she frowned in confusion.

***

And they all got to watch Kallian’s expression shift seemingly unendingly as she tried to comprehend what she just said herself.

“Zevran,” she whispered, “I think you broke her.”

“When do you think she’ll snap out of it?” Alistair whispered back.

“Well, as amusing as this is,” Zevran coughed, “I do believe we have more temple to explore, yes? We have not found the ashes yet, as it were.”

And then they watched Kallian’s expression settle on blank frustration.

“Try not to think on it too hard, Kalli,” she giggled wrapping her arms around her.

“Too late,” Kallian replied, “already done.”

“And what have you decided?” she laughed.

“That I am confused,” Kallian sighed heavily.

“So, basically nothing,” Alistair replied.

“Well… No,” Kallian frowned, “I’ve decided that you’re all horrible people.”

“But you still love us,” she giggled.

“Unfortunately,” Kallian sulked, “I miss Shianni. She always seemed to be the only one who could effectively untangle me from my own head.”

“Oh?” she asked, “and how did she do that?”

“I have no idea, actually,” Kallian replied wonderingly, “she always just made it seem so easy.”

“If we meet her,” Zevran hummed, “no, when we meet her, we should ask her.”

“Just so you know,” Kallian warned, “she’ll probably laugh. Like a lot.”

***

Suddenly she gasped, put her hand to her head and groaned.

“What? What’s wrong?” Alistair frowned.

“I just realized: we left the religious scholar Genitivi with Morrigan, Sten, and Shale,” she sighed heavily, “I mean Wynne’s there too, sure, but I’m worried…”

“Ohh,” Alistair hummed, “we should hurry then. We should really hurry then.”

***

Nothing could have ever prepared them for this, absolutely nothing.

The conversation with the Guardian had started off civil, and diplomatic. 

But something shifted as soon as he had mentioned the suffering in Kallian’s past, he’d only made his way through the words “by the time you had” before she had angrily cut him off.

Kallian was now glaring at the Guardian with such a level of barely contained anger, rage, and pure, and utter hatred that they hadn’t even known was possible from her.

“It does not matter,” Kallian seethed maliciously, her voice practically dripping with disgust and contempt, “if it were just me? Fine. But her pain is not yours to reveal, just as it is not mine.”

“But did you—” the Guardian tried to finish.

“Yes,” Kallian snarled, “however, I do not appreciate you dragging **her** circumstances into a test of **my** faith.”

After the Guardian had moved on from her, she’d clicked her tongue and turned her own gaze from him.

Honestly, he wasn’t having a good time with the Guardian either. Kallian knew of Rinna, but not anyone else. 

And he’d like to keep it that way.

“Kallian…?” Alistair asked tentatively raising a hand to her after the path was opened.

She inhaled a deep breath, and let out the most feral, rage induced roar they’d ever heard in their entire lives, something that made even his blood freeze.

But once she ran out of breath, she simply slumped to the stone floor with a haggard and defeated look on her face.

And then they understood: Kallian’s suffering was something far more than they could probably even imagine.

“Are you okay, my dear?” he asked placing a hand on her shoulder.

“No,” Kallian sighed heavily, “but I will be. Let’s just get this over with.”

Luckily, Kallian’s tutoring of Alistair was being used properly, especially since Kallian herself seemed to be completely, and utterly devoid of… everything.

What had happened to break this woman so completely that she was now barely holding herself together?

“We should keep an eye on her,” Leliana whispered to him as they cleared the third trial, “I’m worried… she just looks…”

“I know,” he replied, “I know.”

Suddenly, Morrigan’s request of him, had made a lot more sense.

***

Sure, the Urn was amazing and all and yes it was surprising that it actually exists.

But that was currently not even a close second on what was currently on his mind.

Kallian.

What had happened to Kallian?

Who would have done something so horrendous to her, to that strong, kind, caring, gentle, patient, and loving Kallian… who would have done something to her that would warp her into… this?

***

She suggested they stop for a bit after they left the Urn’s chamber and brought Kallian as far away from that place as possible.

“Thank you, Leli,” Kallian sighed before slapping herself in the face, “sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” she replied soothingly, “take your time.”


	35. Cured

“I am pleased to announce,” she said with both pride and theatrics, “that Alistair has acquired a perfect score of ten out of ten!”

“Ah, so you’ve finally returned,” Morrigan sighed.

“Yes, well, thank you for your help in guarding Genitivi,” she grinned.

She could tell the other three were watching her warily.

“But! Mother is so proud,” she sighed, “they grow up so fast.”

“You’re still not my mother,” Alistair frowned, “and how did I forget I was being graded?”

“Who knows?” Leliana beamed, “but you should be proud of yourself. You did handle yourself quite well.”

“Indeed!” Zevran cheered, “even I was amazed at how well he did.”

And just like that she had swept them back up to themselves.

“So you were successful then?” Genitivi approached them excitedly.

“Of course,” she grinned, showing him the pouch.

“Is that… oh…. Oh, Maker… I’m not worthy to look upon…” Genitivi said in awe, “what… what was it like? Coming to the Urn, I mean?”

The other three probably had no real recollection of it, and that was her fault.

“Nothing has ever touched me so deeply,” she smiled serenely.

“You are a very fortunate person, and so am I,” Genitivi replied, “perhaps my research will not seem so much like blasphemy to the Chantry now… We must organize an expedition! There is so much history here. It must be studied, and… and pilgrims should be allowed to come to the Urn.”

“Unfortunately, Denerim’s not our next stop,” Alistair frowned, “we’ll be returning to Redcliffe and then Orzammar.”

“That is fine,” Genitivi replied, “I must return home. I have much to do. When you next find yourself in Denerim. Please visit me.”

“Of course,” Alistair nodded.

***

“So, Zevran,” he said keeping an eye on Kallian, “why would the Crows send, you?”

“Is there some reason why they should not?” Zevran asked.

“Plenty of reasons,” he replied flatly, “starting with the fact that you weren’t exactly the best they had, were you?”

“Slander and lies,” Zevran scoffed, “for shame, Alistair.”

“I’m not an idiot,” he huffed, “well, not most of the time. You’re no raw recruit, but I’ve seen you fight. You’re no master of combat, by any means.”

“Assuming that I intended a fair fight,” Zevran replied, “that would indeed be a problem.”

“But the Crows must have their master assassins, the way you describe them,” he frowned, “men with years and years of experience. Why not send them?”

“Why not, indeed?” Zevran shrugged, “it is a mystery for the ages.”

“Oh, I get it,” he sighed, “you’re not going to tell me.”

“Morrigan said you were sharp,” Zevran replied, “no liar, she.”

“Well, Alistair,” Kallian called out fitting a towel into a large pot she had filled with a tiny amount of water, a few drops of fragrance and a rack, “we weren’t exactly the most experienced.”

“Meaning they underestimated us,” he replied.

“And underestimating your opponents is…?” Kallian hummed.

“Bad,” he replied, “because at least if they’re worse than you thought it’s a pleasant surprise and an easy win.”

***

“I have a question for the superior warden,” Shale said suddenly.

“Yes?” she replied applying the steamed towel to her back with a happy sigh.

“Both the superior warden and the painted elf use two daggers,” Shale replied, “but the painted elf can also use a bow, I have never seen it use a bow and I was wondering why not.”

“Because I’m really bad at it,” she laughed nervously.

“But you can practice and get better,” Sten replied flatly.

“I’ve always been forbidden from practicing things I’m bad at,” she replied.

“Why is that?” Sten asked.

“Every time I asked, all they’d say was ‘for your own good’,” she shrugged.

“…This I have to see,” Alistair finally said.

“Indeed,” Leliana agreed and tried to hand her a bow.

“No way,” she said moving away, “Shianni told me she’d never talk to me again if I did.”

“Shianni won’t know,” Zevran replied, “we won’t tell her.”

“Nope,” she said continuing to move away, “and in any case, when a whole community bands together to tell you not to do something for your own good. It means something really bad must have happened.”

“Then did they discourage everyone from practicing things they were bad at?” Sten frowned, “how has your community survived this long?”

“No, not at all,” she replied waving her hands around, “it was just me. Everyone else was free to practice things they were bad at to get better.”

“So they singled you out for it,” Wynne frowned.

“Pretty much,” she nodded.

“I think that I need to have a word with your community if we have the chance,” Wynne sighed.

“Ahahaha,” she laughed nervously, “they must have had good reason for it though.”

Though, it was true. She didn’t know why they strongly discouraged her from practicing things she was bad at, but she trusted them so…

***

“You guys don’t have to watch me so intently,” Kallian sighed, “I’m not going to break and disappear.”

“We’re just worried about you,” she replied hugging her.

“While I appreciate it,” Kallian frowned, “it’s unnecessary.”

“Shhh,” she cooed, “and just accept it.”

“I’ve influenced you guys too much,” Kallian pursed her lips.

***

“So, Wynne,” he said suddenly, “what would you do if someone told you that they loved you?”

“Check their eyesight first, perhaps,” Wynne replied, “is this someone I should know about?”

“No, I mean,” he replied, “pretend you’re a woman.”

“I am a woman, Alistair,” Wynne frowned, “that shouldn’t be too hard. But I’ll give it a try.”

“Ah, that’s… not what I meant,” he frowned, “just… pretend you’re another woman. And someone told you that they loved you. How would you react?”

“Well, that depends,” Wynne replied, “does this someone just blurt it out? Do I love them back? I need context.”

“I… I don’t know if you love them back,” he replied, “maybe you do. You’ve spent a lot of time with this person.”

“Perhaps you need to wait for the right moment?” Wynne replied, "you could get her a gift perhaps. When we return to Redcliffe.”

“Oh! I wasn’t talking about me… just,” he flustered, “forget I said anything.”

“As you wish,” Wynne chuckled.

***

“Kallian,” Alistair called, “you’ve been in love before, right?”

“…Yes, why?” she frowned.

“I just… wanted to ask you for advice,” Alistair replied slowly.

“…Alistair,” she sighed, “my love situation didn’t exactly work out well, remember?”

“…Oh,” Alistair sighed, “sorry to bring it up.”

“It’s fine,” she replied, “in any case, love and relationships are something that depend on the people involved. Every couples situations and such differ.”

“What kind of relationship would you want to be in?” Alistair decided to ask.

“I would like to be able to rely on each other, share our burdens with each other,” she hummed in thought, “always be there for each other… Walk into the future hand in hand willing to overcome whatever obstacles…”

“Are you listening, Zevran?” Alistair called out.

***

“Morrigan,” Leliana wondered, “do you truly not believe in any sort of higher power?”

“No, I do not,” Morrigan replied, “must I?”

“What do you believe happens to you after you die then?” Leliana asked, “nothing?”

“I do not go sit by the Maker’s side,” Morrigan sighed, “if that’s what you mean.”

“Only those who are worthy are brought to the Maker’s side,” Leliana replied, “so many other sad souls are left to wander in the void, hopeless and forever lost.”

“And what evidence of this have you?” Morrigan frowned, “I see only spirits, no wandering ghosts of wicked disbelievers.”

“It must be so sad to look forward to nothing,” Leliana replied, “to feel no love and seek no reward in the afterlife.”

“Yes, the anguish tears at me so,” Morrigan replied sarcastically, “you have seen through me to my sad, sad core.”

“But what if there really was a Maker?” Leliana asked.

“Then I would wonder why He has abandoned His creation,” Morrigan sighed, “it seems terribly irresponsible of Him.”

“He left us because we were determined to make our own way,” Leliana replied, “even if we hurt ourselves, and He could not bear to watch.”

“But how do you know? You cannot ask Him this,” Morrigan replied, “perhaps He has gone to a new creation elsewhere, and abandoned this as a dismal failure, best to be forgotten.”

“I do not need to know because I have faith,” Leliana replied, “I believe in Him and feel His hope and His love.”

“How quickly those who have no answers invoke that word,” Morrigan sighed.

“How can someone who practices magic have so little capacity to believe in that which she cannot see?” Leliana asked.

“Magic is real,” Morrigan explained, “I can touch it and command it and I need no faith for it to fill me up inside. If you are looking for your higher power, there it is.”

“Leliana,” she sighed deciding to interrupt them, “not everyone has the same views and values, not everyone needs to believe in a higher power.”

“What about you, Kalli?” Leliana hummed, “what are your beliefs?”

“I believe that I am me, and that’s all I need to be,” she replied brightly, “nothing more, nothing less. Higher power or no, I am simply who I am. For me, someones beliefs are secondary, not exactly important: what’s important is how you live your life.”

“I see,” Leliana replied in thought.

“I do have respect for very religious people though,” she replied, “to love and devote yourself so wholly and completely isn’t easy. But in the end, the only one who truly has any right to judge you, is yourself.”

“Certainly food for thought,” Leliana replied.

***

Suddenly both Kallian and Alistair ran from their tents.

“It saw us,” Kallian said.

“What do you think it means?” Alistair replied, “wait... Do you hear that?”

“It means we’re becoming a threat,” Kallian replied after the fight, “one of us needs to be awake at all times, we’ll double our watches. You’ll sleep for half the night and I’ll sleep for the next half.”

“Good plan,” Alistair sighed, “catnip for darkspawn indeed.”

“What do you mean by catnip?” he asked.

“They can sense darkspawn,” Morrigan answered, “but then so too can darkspawn sense them.”

“And now that they are becoming dangerous,” Sten replied, “the darkspawn are seeking them out.”

“We’ll be back in Redcliffe tomorrow,” Alistair replied, “I think we should stay there for a few nights before we head to Orzammar.”

“Yeah, if we’ll have to deal with this bullshit more often from now on,” Kallian sighed, “I’d like to do it refreshed.

***

Much to her surprise: the Ashes worked.

Teagan, Elissa, and Isolde were catching Eamon up to speed now as they waited in another room.

“So, Alistair,” she said, “I hope you’re ready to be put up for candidacy for the throne.”

“…Well, you have been more or less already been preparing me for it,” Alistair sighed, “Ms. Future-Teyrna-of-Gwarren.”

“Are you really going to do that?” she sighed.

“Of course!” Alistair replied, “if I’m being sucked into politics I’m taking you with me.”

“Alistair, Kallian,” Eamon addressed them coming into the room they were waiting in, “I know you did what you had to. I grieve for my son, but I believe had you not acted as you did, it might have been far worse.”

“You have my sincerest condolences your grace,” she replied bowing her head.

“He is in a better place now,” Teagan replied, “and I also feel that they acted with Connor’s best interests in mind. I, too, would not have wanted to make him live his life with this hanging over his head.”

“I am in your debt,” Eamon said, “will you permit me to offer you a reward for your service?”

“I…” she replied with a conflicted face, “I’m not sure that that is something I should be rewarded for.”

“I understand, but regardless, I feel you are worthy of a reward,” Eamon insisted, “I would like to honor your efforts, nothing more.”

“As you wish,” she replied.

“Then allow me to declare you and those traveling with you champions of Redcliffe,” Eamon replied, “you will always be a welcome guest within these halls.”

“Thank you, your grace,” she bowed.

“We should speak of Loghain, Brother,” Teagan said, “there is not telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery.”

“And there is no telling what Howe will do once he realizes that I still live,” Elissa added.

“Loghain instigates a civil war even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep,” Eamon sighed, “long I have known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power.”

“I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon,” Teagan replied, “he is mad with ambition, I tell you.”

“Mad indeed,” Eamon replied, “mad enough to kill Cailan, to attempt to kill myself and destroy my lands.”

“I have thoughts on this matter,” she explained, “he has a clear hatred for Orlais, and Cailan sought Orlesian aid to fight the Blight. It may be that this hatred has thus clouded his judgment.”

“Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped,” Eamon sighed, “what’s more, we can scarce afford to fight this war to its bitter end.”

“What is your suggestion then, your grace?” she asked.

“We have no time to wage a campaign against him,” Eamon replied, “someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn. Loghain will pay for his heinous crimes, but our armies must be reserved for the darkspawn, not for each other. I will spread word of Loghain’s treachery, both here and against the king. But it will be a claim made without proof… Those claims will give Loghain’s allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain’s daughter, the queen.”

“Alistair,” she stated.

“Are you certain?” Teagan asked.

“I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative,” Eamon replied, “but the unthinkable has occurred.”

“Kallian has already said as much,” Alistair sighed, “I hate it when you’re right, you know.”

“And I still believe that it is a good idea,” she nodded.

“Oh?” Eamon replied in surprise.

“Yes,” she explained, “we came across a member of Cailan’s honor guard, Elric. He told us that Cailan knew that there would be no victories at Ostagar. On the night of the assault, Cailan suggested both Alistair and I be sent to the Tower of Ishal to light the signal fire. However, I believe that one of the reasons for this suggestion was to ensure Alistair survived the battle: Alistair was Cailan’s contingency plan.”

“We suspect that Cailan knew Loghain would betray him, somehow,” Alistair added, “and that’s why he sent us to the Tower. Kallian’s powers of perception are a force to be reckoned with. She’s been preparing me for this.”

“Hmm… Calm, polite, clear, articulate, intelligent, and level headed,” Eamon noted, “I see that you have been and will continue to be a valuable ally.”

“You are too kind,” she replied.

“I see only one way to proceed then,” Eamon nodded, “I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all of Ferelden’s nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another. Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin.”

“Indeed,” she nodded.

“It will take some time to recall my forces and organize our allies,” Eamon replied, “I would prefer to wait until that is done before calling the Landsmeet.”

“I will also begin organizing the allies of my family,” Elissa added, “the time has passed for me to come out of hiding. I will make sure word is spread about Howe’s involvement with my family as well.”

“In the meantime, I suggest you pursue the remainder of the Grey Warden treaties,” Eamon stated, “we will need all the allies we can get if we are to defeat the darkspawn.”


	36. Campside Interactions Part 8

“So, Kallian,” he hummed striding into the room the girls were sharing, “has anyone told you how beautiful, gorgeous, and utterly sexy you are when you’re standing tall and proud, speaking calmly, and confidently?”

“I suppose now someone has,” Kallian replied flatly.

“You will make a good noble, I think,” Leliana hummed.

“I think I’d make a better servant than a noble,” Kallian sighed.

“Nonsense,” Wynne replied, “you handle yourself very well, your parents must be proud.”

“I’m sure,” Kallian replied, “though my father’s always been more of a don’t-rock-the-boat kind of guy, Soris too, come to think of it.”

“It sounds like your family has a history of strong women,” he noted.

“Oh yes,” Kallian replied, “the Tabris women have always been resilient and tough to a fault. Though it tends to land us in trouble a lot… Well, it lands Shianni in trouble, anyway.”

“But not you?” he raised a brow.

“Well, I’ve inherited a good potion of my father’s personality too,” Kallian shrugged, “he’s calmer, dependable, and far more patient than my mother. So I tend to handle things more diplomatically than Shianni does.”

“Which lands you in less trouble,” Leliana nodded.

“And puts me in the position of having to bail Shianni out of trouble,” Kallian sighed.

“Still,” Morrigan spoke up, “’twould seem you should resign yourself to a future in politics.”

“No way,” Kallian pouted, “maybe I should just run away.”

“Well, I did come here for a reason,” he said walking up to Kallian and grabbing her by the hand, “I need to borrow you for a while.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Kallian frowned but allowed him to drag her away, while Leliana whistled.

While he did enjoy his new view of Kallian’s body, he did not expect her to have such a fear of large bodies of water.

“Zevran, why are you doing this,” Kallian frowned as he tried to help her learn how to float.

“Well, it simply occurred to me,” he hummed, “that if you will be visiting Flynne in the future, it would do you well to do away with your fear of water, yes?”

“I mean, yeah, sure,” Kallian replied, “but still…”

“Come, now, relax, and entrust your body to me,” he grinned.

“You’ve been wanting to say that for a while now, haven’t you?” Kallian sighed.

“Oh yes,” he purred, “since we first met, in fact… though you certainly look better than I had imagined.”

“Gee, thanks,” Kallian replied monotonously, “I’m so glad you approve of my body.”

***

“Oh,” she said suddenly as they returned to the castle that they’d been invited to stay in, “there was something I wanted to tell you.”

“What was that?” Zevran asked.

“… I won’t blame you, you know,” she replied, “if you wanted to finish the job and go back to Antiva.”

“I believe we’ve discussed this,” Zevran sighed heavily, “I want to begin again, not return to how things were.”

“Mmm… but Taliesen is in Ferelden,” she replied, “in any case… it’s your call.”

***

“So how was it?” she grinned.

“Learning how to swim?” Kallian replied, “terrible. I hate large bodies of water.”

“…” she sighed, “I’m disappointed.”

“Well, Leli, I’m not here to impress you,” Kallian stuck her tongue out.

“But it’s been months!” she sighed, “I’m beginning to feel sorry for Zevran.”

“Oh! Right, Leli,” Kallian suddenly said going over to her pack, “you were telling me about the shoes in Orlais, and I saw this in a shop.”

“Ooooooooh blue satin boots,” she smiled, “you know, Kallian… I think you would look great in fine clothes.”

“I used to love wearing fluttery dresses in the alienage,” Kallian replied, “but shoes were always kind of expensive so…”

“So you didn’t have matching shoes?!” she gasped, “when we’re in Denerim, I think we need to go shoe shopping, you and I.”

“If you say so,” Kallian laughed, “I wonder how Alistair and Elissa are doing.”

“Better than you and Zevran apparently,” she snorted.

“That’s because there’s nothing between me and Zevran,” Kallian replied flatly.

“But there should be!” she protested, “you deserve to have fun too, you know. No ones going to get angry at you.”

“’Tis true, Kallian,” Morrigan spoke up, “no one will blame you for wanting to relax.”

“I think Kallian’s doing just fine on her own,” Wynne frowned.

“Of course she is,” Morrigan scoffed, “you are just biased.”

“I don’t know how to feel about all of this,” Kallian sighed, “I’m just going to go to sleep. Good night.”

***

“So we’re going to the Frostback Mountains next right?” Kallian asked.

“Yes,” he nodded, “it’s going to be cold up there, just so you know.”

“Oh, really?” Kallian rolled her eyes, “I thought they were called the Frostback Mountains because they were filled with lava.”

“I’m just making sure you know so you can I don’t know buy thicker clothes or something,” he sighed.

“I’ve made a few sweaters and such,” Kallian replied, “and I’ve finished my cocoon, so I should be fine.”

“Your… cocoon?” he asked.

“Yeah, a giant blanket I’m going to cocoon myself into at night,” Kallian replied.

“Right…” he replied slowly.

“So, how are things going with Elissa?” Kallian asked waggling her brows.

“Well how are things going with Zevran?” he shot back.

“No where, sadly,” Zevran sighed.

“Wait… still?” he asked in surprise.

“Still,” Zevran replied, “sad, I know.”

“How long do you think it’ll take us to get to Orzammar?” Kallian asked.

“Oh, I don’t know maybe a week?” he replied.

“We’ll get your sword back soon, Sten,” Kallian called out, “he’s still in the Frostback Mountains, from what I’ve heard.”

“I look forward to it,” Sten replied.

***

Ever since Kallian had revealed to her, that she knew how to end the Blight, she’d realized that she had indeed been preparing them for a future without her.

However, her preparations had extended far before she knew how to end the Blight.

Kallian had never intended to either survive the Blight, or much longer than it.

The world was full of people who didn’t deserve the lives they lead.

Kallian was without a doubt one of them. She, herself, had never put much stock in love, but Kallian… Kallian loved more deeply and wholly than anyone had any right to. And that love was one of her greatest strengths, but would also surely be her downfall.

Her path was clear: even if Kallian never forgave her for it. She refused to allow her one true friend, her sister, to suffer a fate she never deserved.

***

“So am I to understand the sister is a follower of this ‘Maker’?” Shale asked.

“Am I the sister? Aw… that’s so cute!” she cooed, “it’s like you’re my big brother, or sister… or whatever.”

“I am a creature of stone,” Shale replied, “I doubt that we will be related in any shape or form.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean literally,” she replied, “don’t you think people can be related in spirit? I mean, look at Kallian, she has no blood ties to us, but she still treats us all like treasured members of her family.”

“Hm... You have a point,” Shale nodded, “the superior warden does indeed treat us like family. And I have seen many families in my time in Honnleath.”

***

She loved him, and she knew it.

She would never say so out loud, doing so would be irresponsible.

She knows how this story will end. 

Zevran was far more fragile than even he probably thought, and she did not want to add to the pain that wracked his own heart.

Giving him hope of a future, would just be cruel. She should push him away, send him packing, spare them both more pain and suffering. But she knew that he’d just laugh, brush it off, and tell her ‘too bad, you’re stuck with me until the end, my dear.’

She wondered what she had ever done to the Maker to deserve this life. Had she offended Him in some way, shape, or form and not known it? Or was this simply just more punishment for being unable to save Nola, Nelaros, and Shianni? What more did He want from her?

Why did it seem like she could only bring suffering and pain to those around her? Why did it seem like everything she touched suddenly became destined to fail? Why did it seem like she could never do anything right?

She was breaking, and she knew it. It was true that she had already been broken by the time this mad quest had begun, but even shards of glass can continue to shatter until they simply become dust.

Well, whatever the case may be, she would continue to prepare them for a future without her. They deserved no less.

She could only hope that they’ll find it within their hearts to forgive her one day.

***

Honestly, he didn’t really have high hopes for Orzammar. It really was amazing how everyone had seemed to wait until the Blight to begin killing each other. They settled disputes as they traveled and invoked treaties, but there were ‘problems’ in Orzammar.

He looked at Kallian, who was currently curled up into a ball of fluff riding on the back of Bodhan’s cart.

She’d turned into a sneezing, sniffling, mess last night, so she was on strict orders to recover by the time they reached Orzammar.

He heard a particularly loud sneeze and then a groan of pain.

“Ahhhh my collar bones!” Kallian suddenly cried out, “this sucks. This sucks so much.”

“Who would have thought that Kalli could actually get sick,” he found himself saying.

“Of course I can get sick!” Kallian replied, “I’m not Shale.”

“Indeed, I feel sorry for you squishy fleshlings who are subject to these, ugh, bodily functions,” Shale replied.

“Lucky,” Kallian sighed enviously.

“Go to sleep, young lady,” Wynne scolded, “you need to hurry and recover. I do not want to risk everyone coming down with a cold.”

“Grey Wardens, defeated by a cold,” Kallian snorted, “not darkspawn, but a cold.”

“Sleep. Now,” Leliana frowned.

“Yes, yes,” Kallian sighed.

***

Kallian was cocooned in her blanket giving her instructions on how to make a porridge that would probably help her out, and was also healthy for all of them.

“You certainly are very knowledgeable,” she said as she ladled out a bowl of porridge for her.

“Thank you, Leli,” Kallian replied accepting the bowl, “and you learn things from watching kids.”

“So I’ve learned,” she giggled, “now finish your dinner and go back to sleep.”

“Sorry, Alistair,” Kallian apologized.

“We’ll be at another village tomorrow,” Alistair replied, “we’ll rest there until you’re better.”

“Thanks,” Kallian replied.

***

They had stayed at the inn until Kallian was in the clear, and currently they were back on track to Orzammar.

She had started a friendly philosophical debate with Sten on cultural values and religion.

“Ah, but then you see, Sten,” Kallian said, “it comes down to a single philosophical question now: what does it mean to be alive?”

“What do you mean?” Sten asked.

“Are you simply alive while your heart still beats?” Kallian asked, “or is it deeper than that? What exactly does it mean to live?”

And that was certainly a question that he found himself suddenly asking himself.

Was he alive? What did it mean to live? Was it an emotional thing or a spiritual thing?

“That is… certainly something to consider,” Sten eventually conceded.

“I’ve noticed that the painted elf seeks the attention of the superior warden,” Shale said addressing him.

“He certainly does,” he replied brightly.

“I watched many such couplings during the time I spent immobile in Honnleath,” Shale snorted, “or should I say I was forced to watch. You do know that this usually ends in reproduction. I have seen it many times, indeed.”

“Oh? That is not such a terrible thought,” he hummed, “creating a new life can be a great deal of fun. Though, she’d have to let me touch her for that, of course.”

“So you say,” Shale replied, “I have no idea how a golem is created but I doubt I shall be creating one anytime soon.”

“Just as well, I imagine,” he replied, “any lover of yours would no doubt be quickly reduced to a puddle of bruises.”

“So you see me winning the affection of another golem, do you?” Shale replied, “most golems are slaves to whomever holds their control rod.”

“Funny, it works exactly the same way for us as well,” he noted.


	37. Orzammar

“Where is my sword?” Sten glared.

“I…ah… don’t know what you mean, ser,” Faryn replied.

“I’d give it to him if I were you,” she warned.

“I… I don’t have it! I swear by Andraste’s knickers!” Faryn panicked, “I sold it on the way here!”

“Who did you sell it to?” she asked.

“A dwarf near Redcliffe,” Faryn replied, “Dwyn, I think his name was.”

“I know that name,” she said in thought.

“He’s the one who has the sword, I promise you,” Faryn replied, “said he was a collector.”

“We’ll see,” Sten grunted.

“We’ll be back if he doesn’t,” she hummed threateningly.

“I swear he has it!” Faryn panicked.

“Well, he’d better,” she replied before they went off to enter Orzammar.

“Are we going to get to enter Orzammar?” Zevran said with a touch of excitement, “I don’t believe they allow non-dwarves within.”

“It’s almost like a little city,” Leliana hummed, “I wonder if they sell shoes… though I doubt they’d fit us.”

“Most traders aren’t allowed into Orzammar,” Alistair stated, “so they just sort of… gather near the doors. There’s no laws up here at all, I’m told.”

“What? Really?” she furrowed her brows, “I don’t understand… people.”

“I don’t either,” Morrigan sighed, “are we descending into the underground? The thought of so much rock over one’s head is… disquieting.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I’m not looking forward to this either.”

“Morrigan is free to wait outside if she wants,” Alistair remarked, “you’re not.”

“I hate you so much,” she grumbled.

“No, I believe that you love me,” Alistair teased.

“I’m going to punch you in the face if you don’t shut it,” she said holding up a fist.

“Can your fist even reach my face?” Alistair grinned, “you’re so tiny.”

“You wanna find out?!” she glared.

“If you two are quite done with your bout of sibling rivalry,” Wynne sighed, “we have more important things to accomplish.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they sighed in unison.

***

“Veata! This land is held in trust for the sovereign dwarven kings,” a guard said, “I cannot allow entry at this time.”

“King Loghain demands the allegiance of the deshyr, or lords, or whatever you call them in your Assembly!” another man glared, “I am his appointed messenger.”

“…So it’s not regent anymore,” Kallian muttered beside him, “it’s king. Lovely. And making demands? Tsk tsk tsk.”

“I don’t care if you’re the king’s wiper,” the guard replied, “Orzammar will have none but its own until our throne is settled.”

“We have important business in Orzammar,” he said as they approached the guard.

“None more important than mine,” the messenger glared.

“You’re business will wait,” the guard said to them, “Orzammar must limit outside influence until the throne is settled. No one gets in.”

“We have urgent need to speak to your king,” he replied calmly and civilly, he could tell Kallian was looking at him with pride.

“Who doesn’t?” the messenger frowned, “if I don’t get in, no one should.”

“Orzammar has no king,” the guard replied, “Endrin Aeducan returned to the stone not three weeks ago, sick over the loss of his sons. The Assembly has gone through a dozen votes without agreeing on a successor. If it is not settled soon, we risk a civil war.”

“Well, isn’t that just marvelous,” Morrigan replied in frustration.

“The Grey Wardens need their traditional dwarven allies,” he replied holding up the treaty.

“The Wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden!” the messenger exclaimed, “they’re sworn enemies of King Loghain!”

“Well,” Kallian muttered, “he’s got that right.”

“Well, that is the royal seal,” the guard said after inspecting the treaty, “that means only the Assembly is authorized to address it. Grey Wardens, you may pass.”

“You’re letting in a traitor? And a foreigner?” the messenger growled, “in the name of King Loghain I demand that you execute this… stain on the honor of Ferelden!”

“Funny,” Kallian sighed, “I seem to recall Ostagar differently than you do, it seems. A signal fire was lit, and we were abandoned and left for dead.”

“What?!” the messenger glared, “lies and slander! King Loghain will not suffer this! I will not suffer it. I’m his messenger!”

“Kill each other as you will,” the guard sighed, “but take your sodding fight off my doorstep!”

***

“You’ve done me a service,” the guard sighed, "that fool Imrek was barking for a week. Are all humans so touched?”

“I wonder that myself,” she sighed, “but there’s exceptions to every rule, I suppose.”

“You are free to enter Orzammar, Grey Wardens,” the guard nodded, “though I don’t know what help you will find.”

“Thank you,” Alistair nodded as the guards moved to open the door.

“Your arrival is a mixed blessing,” a guard on the inside nodded to them, “we don’t usually allow outsiders to see our infighting… but your presence will be tolerated.”

“Whoa,” she gaped, “that’s a high ceiling.”

“Those statues are dwarven Paragons, if I remember right,” Alistair stated, “the best of their ancestors.”

“Ahh… the Paragons,” Zevran noted, “the dwarves worship their own ancestors, if you can believe it.”

“Would it be bad of me,” she replied, “if I said that they all looked the same?”

“I was just thinking that as well,” Sten replied.

“They certainly possess a remarkable facility for carving stone,” Morrigan hummed.

“Do you think they sell miniatures of these in this city?” Leliana wondered, “I would love to have some on my mantle.”

“Imagine if all of those were golems,” Shale replied in thought.

“You would be the superior golem,” she noted, “since you have free will.”

“Of course I would be,” Shale snorted.

“I miss the sky already,” she sighed.

“We haven’t even been here for half an hour,” Alistair sighed.

“You wanna fight?” she threatened.

“Whoa, this place is huge,” Alistair gaped, clearly deciding to ignore the fight they’d just witnessed.

“Lava is bad,” Shale warned, “don’t go near the lava.”

“Yes, so, my dear,” Zevran nodded holding her back as she went to take a peak over the edge, “that is a lot of lava and you should not fall in.”

“Man… being burned alive by lava would suck,” she hummed in thought, “it would continuously cauterize your wounds until you got swallowed whole, and honestly getting burned in general sucks.”

“Yes,” Zevran replied, “so perhaps we should stay away from it, hm?”

“But it’s kind of mesmerizing,” she replied, “look at the swirls.”

“Okay, my dear,” Zevran sighed pulling her away from the edge, “I think we should hurry and find whoever it is we must speak to.”

“Good idea!” Alistair agreed.

***

“So, plans?” Kallian hummed.

“I’m thinking we should split up,” he said in thought, “and gather information on both Bhelen and Harrowmont. We’ll need to make educated decisions regarding this mess.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Kallian beamed, “let’s meet up at the entrance to the diamond quarter in what? Two hours sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he nodded, “try not to get into too much trouble, you three. Well, I trust Kallian won’t but you two? Not so much.”

“For shame, Alistair,” Zevran frowned, “Kallian is just as much of a trouble maker as we are.”

“Yes, well,” he sighed, “she’s a diplomatic trouble maker.”

“… I’m going to go start a brawl in the tavern,” Kallian announced.

“No, you’re not,” he replied, “I know you.”

Kallian simply clicked her tongue.

“We’ll keep her out of trouble,” Leliana giggled.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” he sighed, “well, off with you then.”

“Why have you already decided that we’re going together?” Kallian frowned.

“Because you three are always together,” he replied flatly.

***

They did collect information, that was true.

But for some reason, they’d also decided to wrangle some nugs together.

“I would love to have one of those subterranean bunny things as a pet,” Leliana hummed in thought.

“I agree,” Kallian hummed, “they’re adorable… until you get to the feet.”

“I think they're charming,” Leliana replied.

“Well… maybe we can buy one somewhere,” Kallian replied.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Leliana said shaking her head, “you don’t have to mind me. I’m just so silly sometimes.”

“Well, you never know until you try, yeah?” Kallian replied.

He wasn’t really looking forward to seeing those feet very often.

“I suppose we’ll have to go to the Circle and then come back eventually,” Kallian said after they finished talking to a dwarven lass, Dagna.

“Are you going to be okay on the trip across the lake, my dear?” he asked.

“…” Kallian stared at him, “it’s for Flynne, and for Dagna. I can do it.”

“I’ll come with you,” he sighed, “and make sure you don’t drown, yes?”

“That’s so sweet of you, Zevran,” Leliana giggled.

“Well, we’re also apparently getting into the Lyrium smuggling game,” he shrugged, “it should be great fun.”

“I’m not sure which is worse, to be honest,” Kallian frowned, “Dust Town or the Alienage… Probably Dust Town, at least we had wind in the Alienage... And sunlight… and sky.”

“Oh! It’s one of those subterranean bunny-pigs!” Leliana cooed, “oooh look at him. Come here you…”

“Careful, he nips,” Kallian warned.

“He’s probably just hungry,” Leliana giggled, “ooh, he’s snuffling me! Snuffle, snuffle! Thank you so much, you’ve made my day.”

“What are you going to name him?” Kallian asked.

“Schmooples!” Leliana replied happily.

***

“I thought we were collecting information,” Alistair sighed, “not pets.”

“We did both,” she replied.

“It’s true, we did,” Zevran nodded.

“So, then, thoughts?” Alistair asked.

“That we shouldn’t discuss this here,” she said flatly.

“Point. Taken.” Alistair sighed, “let’s find somewhere to stay then.”

“Good call,” she nodded in approval, “though we’ve already settled that.”

“…I should have expected you to,” Alistair sighed.

“Bodahn and Sandal are staying outside though,” she shrugged, “they refuse to enter the city.”

“I wonder why…” Alistair replied in thought.

“We all have our circumstances,” Leliana replied.

“Have you tried the dwarven ale?” Wynne asked, “it’s quite tasty.”

“I have not,” she replied.

“I’m sure we will at some point,” Zevran replied.

“I feel… so tall here,” she hummed, “it’s a little jarring.”

“Oh yeah,” Alistair replied, “you’re the shortest member of our group.”

“Yessir, thanks for noticing,” she frowned.

“Everyone can see over your head,” Alistair teased.

“You arse,” she grumbled.

***

“You know, after all this is over, I wouldn’t mind getting a job here,” Leliana said as they walked past the palace, “I could sing, tell stories, help the king get items from high shelves…”

“How about I give you a job instead?” he replied, “though I doubt I’ll need help getting things from high shelves.”

“Oh! That’s true too!” Leliana replied.

“I’ll just give all of you jobs,” he said in thought, “I’ll have Kallian as my adviser, and Teyrna of Gwarren, Wynne can be my other adviser, Zevran can protect Kallian and stop assassination attempts…”

“…Have you been thinking on this?” Kallian asked.

“Of course,” he replied, “countries don’t rule themselves. And I’ll need all the allies I can get.”

“Oh yes,” Leliana agreed, “you will. The intrigues of the court can be rather hard to navigate.”

“I’m fairly certain I can protect myself though,” Kallian sighed.

“This is true,” Zevran replied, “however, you can never be too safe, no?”

Apparently, everyone had decided that Bhelen was the stronger candidate for King, and so they began doing tasks to prove their loyalties.

Especially since Kallian and Zevran had apparently decided to all but insult Harrowmont’s second.

“You’re supposed to keep us under wraps!” Kallian frowned and punched him.

“Ow!” he frowned rubbing his arm, “can’t you keep yourselves under wraps?”

“Yes, but you currently you’re our leader,” Zevran sighed, “remember?”

“Three out of ten,” Kallian sighed, “Mother is a little disappointed… But there’s still time yet for you to attain a higher score.”

He sighed heavily in frustration.


	38. Deep Roads

“I hope you haven’t forgotten we have a mark in the palace,” Zevran whispered.

“Of course I haven’t,” she whispered back.

“Oh good,” Leliana whispered, “we should take care of it quickly, before the others catch on.”

“What are you three whispering about back there?” Alistair frowned.

“How we should go about grading you this time,” she lied.

“Well… You three better be on your best behavior,” Alistair said narrowing his eyes, “I’m watching you.”

“I’m hurt Alistair,” she frowned, “I’m hurt that you think I’d do anything to damage our chances of success.”

“Fine… but I’m warning you…” Alistair sighed heavily.

The three of them shared a look and a grin.

After getting an audience with Bhelen, they returned to the inn to grab their stuff, since apparently they were given rooms in the palace.

Which suited the three of them just fine, there was work to be done, after all.

***

“Well, you’ve simply outdone yourselves,” Bhelen said after they sorted out Jarvia’s mess, “they’re talking all over the city about how someone finally went through Dust Town and slaughtered the carta like genlocks.”

Kallian, Leliana, and Zevran had decided to disappear off to… somewhere.

It was suspicious but, the three of them would never undermine their efforts, he knew that much.

“Right,” he replied slowly, “well we did what you asked.”

“Killing Jarvia brought me greater favor, but to truly displace Harrowmont,” Bhelen said as the three rogues returned, “we’ll need something dramatic enough to end the debate forever.”

“Oh?” Kallian tilted her head.

“What do you know of the Paragon Branka?” Bhelen asked.

“Just the name,” he replied, “not much else.”

“She is a Paragon, a girl of the Smith Caste who rose to nobility for her brilliant inventions,” Bhelen explained, “two years ago, she heard of something the ancients created. It inspired her to leave everything behind and venture into the Deep Roads. She is the only Paragon in four generations and she turned her back on her responsibilities.”

“I see,” he replied nodding his head.

“A paragon is like an ancestor born in this time,” Bhelen continued, “if she returned, her vote would outweigh the entire Assembly. Any one with her support could take the throne unchallenged.”

“So you want us to bring her back to endorse you for king,” he replied, “what makes you think she’s still alive? Two years is a long time.”

“She had an entire house with her, dedicated to her protection,” Bhelen replied, “with the number of ruins still intact, they could last for a long time. Harrowmont is looking as well. It’s too risky to assume she’s dead, only to have him take credit for finding her.”

“Do you think she’ll endorse you?” he asked.

“I was hoping you could use your legendary charm to persuade her that the rightful king should take the throne,” Bhelen replied, “however, if the Deep Roads have… addled her wits, it might be best she not return before the kingship is decided.”

“What is she like?” Kallian asked.

“I did not know her personally,” Bhelen replied, “two years ago, I was still considered a child, not one to consort with Orzammar’s finest. From what I hear, her intellect was unrivaled, but the social graces were… beneath the notice of one so gifted.”

“Well,” he replied, “I suppose taking a look won’t hurt, we’ll have to deal with a lot more to end the Blight.”

“Indeed,” Kallian nodded.

“Stranger!” a red headed dwarf stopped them at the entrance to the Deep Roads, “have you seen a Grey Warden hereabouts? I heard tell that he… or was that she— you understand, this was several flagons ago— was setting out to search for Branka on the prince’s own orders.”

“What do these Grey Wardens look like?” Kallian decided to ask.

“Stout and muscular, fair of face but with a strong jaw and a bold nose, surrounded by a great glowing nimbus,” the dwarf replied, causing his companions to let out a bark of laughter, “if she’s a woman, she might be more slight, but her eyes will shine with the light of purity and her large but chaste bosom will heave magnificently.”

From the corner of his eye he could see Kallian look down at her breasts.

“I’d say that description of you is rather accurate,” Zevran nodded.

“I would too,” Leliana agreed.

“I’ve been looking for hours, but I haven’t seen anyone who looks like that,” the dwarf sighed, “very frustrating.”

“Well look no further, my friend,” Zevran said, “for you have found them.”

“Seriously? You’re the Wardens?” the dwarf replied with shock, “I mean, the Grey Wardens? Well, if you’re the best they’ve got, then standards must have fallen way down.”

“Tell me about it,” Kallian sighed, “I never saw my life playing out this way.”

“I suppose that would account for non-dwarves being down here,” the dwarf replied, “say, could I ask you a favor?”

“Didn’t we see you bickering with some noble earlier?” Kallian asked.

“Aye, that blowhard Loilinar,” Oghren replied, “and if you asked him, all he probably said is ‘oh, that Oghren, he pisses ale and kills little boys who look at him wrong.’ And that’s mostly true, but the part they never say is how I’m the only one still trying to save our only Paragon. And if you’re looking for Branka, I’m the only one who knows what she was looking for, which might be pretty sodding helpful in finding her.”

“And what do you want in return for this information?” he asked.

“I know what Branka wanted and how she was looking,” Oghren replied, “you, presumable, know everything Bhelen’s scouts have discovered about where she disappeared. If we pool our knowledge, we stand a chance of finding Branka. Otherwise, good sodding luck.”

“Sounds like we have a deal,” he nodded.

“You should know that Branka was looking for the Anvil of the Void,” Oghren explained, “the secret to building golems, which was lost centuries ago. The smith Caridin built it, and with it, Orzammar had a hundred years of peace, while it was protected by the golems forged on the Anvil. As far as anyone knows, the Anvil was built in the old Ortan Thaig, Branka planned to start looking there, if she could ever find it. All she knew was that it was past Caridin’s Cross. No one’s seen that thaig for five hundred years.”

“We were given a map,” he replied, “we can get us to Caridin’s Cross.”

“Then if we’re going, let’s get moving,” Oghren replied, “Branka’s not going to sodding find herself.”

***

“I wonder if we’ll be able to discover your roots,” she wondered looking at Shale.

“I wonder that as well,” Shale replied, “the secret to building golems? How interesting.”

“Then this will be a journey for us to rediscover your past,” she grinned.

“And find Branka,” Alistair sighed, “I hope you haven’t forgotten that part.”

“Of course not,” she replied, “but Branka left to go figure out how to make golems, so it’s killing two birds with one stone, as the saying goes.”

“I rather like that saying,” Shale noted, “though it’s more like two birds with one golem.”

“Well, is everyone set?” she asked looking back at their group.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Leliana replied.

“I wonder what kind of untouched treasures we’ll be able to find,” Zevran grinned.

“The darkspawn come from underground,” Sten stated, “and we’re going underground.”

“Let’s get this over with so that we can return to the surface,” Morrigan frowned, “I’m beginning to miss fresh air.”

“Me too!” she replied.

“Fresh air would be nice,” Wynne sighed.

“Well, let’s get a move on then,” she nodded.

“I’ve been waiting two sodding years for someone to say that,” Oghren nodded.

They’d been traveling, following the maps for who knows how long. There was no sky, no sun, and her sense of time was getting warped. Her world had become rock, rock, and oh, wonderful, more rock.

They also had to deal with mercenaries that Harrowmont had apparently hired to take care of them.

There were more mercenaries than darkspawn, which was a little weird, given what she’d heard of the things.

“I wonder how far you could throw me,” she found herself staring at Shale.

“Would the superior warden like to find out?” Shale asked.

“Mmrghph,” a hand had covered her mouth to keep her from replying.

“No, my dear,” Zevran said holding her from behind, “that is something that we do not want to find out.”

“Just as well,” Shale replied, “I would not like the superior warden to end up a squishy mess on a wall.”

***

“Caridin’s Cross,” Oghren exclaimed, “I can’t believe Bhelen actually tracked this place down. This used to be one of the biggest crossroads in the old empire. You could get anywhere from here. Including Ortan Thaig.”

“See any sign of Branka yet?” he asked.

“Not a one, but trust me, we will once we’re on the path to the old Ortan Thaig,” Oghren replied, “she was going to Caridin’s home.”

“Who is this Caridin?” Shale asked.

“Only Branka’s hero, the most famed Paragon ever to rise from Smith Caste,” Oghren replied, “he built the Anvil, and he’s the only one who ever knew its secret. He was an Ortan before he founded his own house, and even then, he spent most of his time in their thaig. Branka figured it was the best guess for where the Anvil was located.”

“So, you know where to go from here?” he asked.

“Aye, Branka dug up some maps of the ancient empire,” Oghren nodded, “it’s a little tough to tell with so much of it collapsed now, but near as I can figure we’re on the right path to Ortan Thaig.”

“What’s so important about Ortan Thaig?” he asked.

“My dear, you look like you’re a flower about to wilt,” he heard Zevran sigh behind him.

“I feel like a flower about to wilt,” Kallian replied flatly.

“It’s the home of Caridin, the Paragon who made the Anvil,” Oghren replied.

“Do you know anything else about the Anvil?” he asked.

“No one but Caridin ever really knew more than that it had some kind of Stone-blessed power,” Oghren explained, “every golem who ever ranged across the empire was hammered on the steel of that Anvil, but no one ever knew exactly how they were made. But Branka was sure she could find out.”

“Then this should be interesting,” Shale replied.

“So, Kallian,” Leliana said suddenly, “you know that deep voice you can do?”

“Yes?” Kallian asked tilting her head.

“Can you… can you sing in that voice?” Leliana asked.

“Ohh yes,” Kallian replied, before launching into a laid back and lazy song with that super deep, and sultry voice of hers.

“… I don’t know how to feel about this,” Leliana stated when she was done.

“I don’t know either,” Zevran sighed.

“Upset,” he replied flatly, “I’m feeling upset. I can’t sing that well with my own voice at its normal level, but then we have Kallian here who can sing in various different voices.”

“And she does it so effortlessly,” Zevran replied, “and sexily.”

***

“By the tits of my ancestors, Ortan Thaig,” Oghren said in wonder, “I never thought I’d see this place in the flesh. I can see Branka all over this place. She always took chips from the walls at regular intervals when she was in a new tunnel— check their composition. If she were still here, though, she’d have sentries out by now.”

“What if Branka and everyone died?” Alistair asked.

“Whoa, Alistair, that’s mean,” she frowned.

“Well, aren’t you a sodding bright spot today?” Oghren frowned, “if everyone’s dead there’d be evidence of a major battle, wouldn’t there? Three hundred or so dwarves don’t just fade away.”

“Three hundred!?” Alistair exclaimed.

“Where would Branka have gone if not here?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Oghren replied, “this was always her goal. She figured if the Anvil wasn’t here, there would at least be some clue to point her to where it is.”

“What can you tell us about these ruins?” Wynne asked.

“This was Caridin’s home thaig,” Oghren explained, “he was an Ortan before he got raised to Paragon. Even stayed here when he could have had his own house. I guess he didn’t want to move his people to Bownammar.”

“Bownammar?” Leliana asked.

“The city of the dead,” Oghren replied, “Caridin built it to honor the Legion of the Dead, but it was more like a sodding mausoleum than anything. Of course that was all before he built the Anvil. After that, he was the city’s pet genius until he angered the king and fell into disfavor.”

“So there was a city here?” Alistair asked.

“No, no,” Oghren replied, “there was a thaig here, the Ortan Thaig. Bownammar is north and west of here, but that’s not important. Or at least I hope it isn’t. The City of the Dead is known as the Dead Trenches since the darkspawn conquered it. Much of the Legion was destroyed when the fortress fell.”

“How cheery,” Alistair said flatly.

“And you have no idea where the Anvil could be?” she asked.

“No one does,” Oghren replied, “at the time, Ortan Thaig was almost part of the main city. No one bothered to mark where the Anvil was stored. Now it’s impossible to know if it’s been moved or even destroyed. But trust me: if we find it, we find Branka.”

“Well let’s get going then,” Alistair replied.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Oghren nodded firmly.

“Alistair,” she announced, “I’m going to let you know: I’m quitting the Wardens. Like, now.”

“What?! Why?” Alistair frowned, “rejected!”

“Fine,” she glared, “but if I get forced to spend half my life in the deep roads I will go crazy and slaughter whoever ordered it.”

“I see… the spiders huh?” Alistair sighed.

“Of fucking course it’s the fucking spiders,” she glared, “fuck this fucking shit… Fuck! Fucking fucker fuck!”

“I have never seen you so upset and distressed before,” Alistair replied, “it’s actually kind of amusing.”

“Fucking fucker fuck, huh?” Oghren replied thoughtfully, “I’ll have to remember to use that one sometime.”

“I don’t think I’ve been here before,” Shale noted while she was busy freaking out about spiders.

“And now there’s fucking ghosts?!” she groaned.

“Grey Wardens, legendary fighters,” Sten sighed, “afraid of spiders and ghosts.”

“Wait, did you see that?” Alistair asked, “that’s not a darkspawn.”

“It might be Ruck,” she hummed, “let’s go find out.”

***

“There’s nothing for you here!” the dwarf shouted, “it’s mine! I’ve claimed it!”

“Who are you and what are you doing down here?” he asked slowly.

“You’ve come to take my claim!” the dwarf glared, “you surfacers are all alike: thieving scoundrels! Well, I found it first! Begone, you! You’ll bring the dark ones back, you will! They’ll crunch your bones! It’s my claim, not yours! Crunch your bones!”

“He might have clues on Branka,” Kallian spoke up beside him, “we should go after him.”

Kallian was currently hanging on to Leliana, much to Zevran’s dismay.

“Leli, comfort me,” Kallian whimpered.

“I think you should ask Zevran to comfort you,” Leliana giggled pushing Kallian towards Zevran.

“I don’t know if I want his particular brand of comfort,” Kallian sighed.

“Nonsense!” Zevran replied cheerily wrapping his arms around her, “it’s okay. I won’t let the spiders get to you. You have my oath.”

“If you two are done flirting,” he started.

“Flirting is such a strong word,” Kallian grumbled.

“Go away! This is mine!” the dwarf yelled as they approached, “only I gets to plunder its riches!”

“Is this Branka’s campsite?” Kallian asked soothingly.

“It’s mine! I’m the one who found it! I drove out the crawlers,” the dwarf glared, “now it’s mine!”

“We’re not here to steal anything, I promise,” Kallian replied continuing to speak comfortingly.

“Pretty lady… pretty eyes, pretty hair… smells like the steam of burning water, blue as the deepest rock,” the dwarf replied, “so the pretty lady won’t take anything from Ruck? You won’t take Ruck’s shiny worms and pretty rocks.”

“You have my word,” Kallian nodded, “we just want to talk, we won’t take anything.”

“Oh, Ruck not mind that, maybe…” Ruck replied.

“So, you’re name is Ruck?” Kallian asked, “my name is Kallian, pleased to meet you.”

“Ruck not pretty name, not pretty like lady,” Ruck replied, “Ruck is small and ugly and twisted.”

“I will never get over how well she handles these situations,” he stated.

“I just have a few questions for you,” Kallian replied.

“I will answer your questions, pretty lady,” Ruck replied, “anything you wish.”

“I think I met your mother,” Kallian replied, “is her name Filda?”

“No! No Filda! No mother,” Ruck replied, “no warm blanket and stew and pillow and soft words! Ruck doesn’t deserve good memories! No!”

“Okay, okay,” Kallian replied soothingly, “but your mother misses you, you know?”

“She… she did not know, not what I did,” Ruck replied calming down, “I was very, very, very angry and then someone was dead. They wanted to send Ruck to the mines. If I went to the mines, she would know. Everyone would know. So I came here, instead. Once you eat… once you takes in the darkness… you not miss the light so much. You know, do you not? Ruck sees, yes. He sees the darkness inside you.”

“You have to tell your mother you’re alive,” Kallian replied, he could see that she was ignoring the shock that crossed her face for a split second.

He should probably tell her about that…

“No! She cannot… she remembers a boy, a little boy, with bright eyes and a hammer,” Ruck replied, “and she cannot see this! Swear-promise-vow you won’t tell!”

“I… promise,” Kallian replied, “I will tell her that you died bravely.”

“Yes! Tell the mother that Ruck is dead,” Ruck replied, “he’s dead and his bones are rotting in the crawlers’ webs and she should never look again. Pretty lady is like Mother, yes. Too good, too pretty for the darkness.”

“Do you mind if I ask you some other questions?” Kallian asked.

“I will answer your questions, pretty lady,” Ruck replied, “anything you wish.”

“When did you arrive here?” Kallian asked.

“Too long ago, I must think… five years?” Ruck replied thoughtfully, “six? Ruck no longer remembers the smells and sights of the city.”

“How did you survive down here?” Kallian asked.

“When the dark ones were here, I kept to the shadows,” Ruck replied, “they don’t look in the shadows, not if you’re quiet. Not if you eat their flesh. Then the dark ones think you’re one of them. They leave you alone. But now they’re gone.”

“Do you know where the ‘dark ones’ went?” he asked.

“I thinks they went south,” Ruck replied, “far, far to the south. That is where the dark master calls them with his beautiful voice. So much joy when he awoke!”

“Mmm, he’s talking about the archdemon, huh?” Oghren replied.

“Probably,” he replied.

“After the dark master awoke, he called his children and they all went,” Ruck explained, “I wanted to go too, and gaze upon his beauty...”

“Where is the dark master now?” he asked.

“He stopped calling,” Ruck replied, “I wish I could go see him, but Ruck, no, no, Ruck is a coward.”

“Did you find anything unusual at this camp?” Kallian asked.

“Bits of things, but only bits,” Ruck replied, “the crawlers took almost everything. They takes things of steel and things of paper. They takes the shinies and the words.”

“Paper and words?” Oghren spoke up thoughtfully, “that sounds like someone was taking notes. Do you think Branka camped here?”

“They bring to the great nest,” Ruck explained, “the nest they makes for the eggs. They puts the shinies inside, they do.”

He could see Kallian trying to keep the look of panic and terror off her face.

“So there are still giant spiders here, correct?” he asked.

“The crawlers, they used to eat the smallest dark ones,” Ruck replied, “now the crawlers go hungry.”

“I see,” Kallian replied standing back up, “thank you, Ruck.”

“I am not what one would call a sympathetic man,” Zevran spoke up finally, “but seeing him like this pains me. We should at least put him out of his misery.”

“Is not so bad,” Ruck replied, “the dark and the burning keeps Ruck warm… warm like Mother’s arms.”

“His mind is gone, and his body will soon follow,” Zevran sighed, “I have seen victims of poisoning in better shape.”

“You’re right,” Kallian sighed with a pained expression, “please forgive me.”

“Ahh! The pretty lady is treacherous! Don’t hurt Ruck, no!” Ruck shouted.

***

“So… Kalli,” Alistair said slowly, “there’s something I should probably have told you earlier.”

“Oh? What’s that Alistair?” Kallian replied.

“So… we’re probably going to die in thirty years, give or take,” Alistair replied quickly, “sorry I didn’t tell you! I meant to but then I forgot!”

“Makes sense,” Kallian sighed, “a poison is still a poison no matter how long it takes to kill you.”

“You’re… not angry?” Alistair asked.

“Why should I be?” Kallian replied wryly.

“I am!” he glared, “thirty years?! Thirty?!”

“Thirty years is a long time, Zevran,” Kallian replied.

“I refuse to accept this,” he argued.

“What’s done is done,” she shrugged, “it’s too late to change the past.”

And he heard her whisper very faintly:

“I knew all I could do was bring suffering and pain…”

And he desperately wished his warden would stop speaking like this.


	39. Paragons

“By the way, Kallian,” Alistair spoke up on their way to the Dead Trenches, “I hope you don’t honestly expect me to believe that you have even the tiniest amount of malicious intent in your entire body.”

“You’d be surprised,” she replied.

“I too, find it rather hard to believe that you are capable of anything other than good,” Morrigan sighed.

“D’awww, you guys agree on something,” she grinned.

“’Twould seem that we only agree on something when it comes to you,” Morrigan replied.

“I feel loved,” she smiled.

“You should,” Leliana replied, “because you are.”

And suddenly she and Alistair were shoving everyones heads down.

“What are—” Sten started to complain, but stopped as soon as he saw their faces.

A sea of darkspawn below them, and a blighted dragon leading them.

They watched in silence as it eventually flew past them all.

“So, in case any of you were wondering,” Alistair spoke up as soon as the coast was clear, “that was the archdemon.”

“Not the source of the worst dreams I’ve ever had but it’s up there,” she sighed.

“Not the worst dreams?!” Alistair replied in shock.

“By far,” she replied, “I’d rather dream of that than what I usually dream of.”

“What do you usually dream of?” Zevran asked.

“Oh, you know,” she shrugged, “just all my life’s failures and shortcomings.”

“Kallian, I don’t know how to feel about your life,” Wynne frowned, “you speak of it very fondly, but I don’t think I could live through a lot the things you have.”

“Well, that was simply how life was,” she replied, “Alienage elves don’t really get to be picky about a lot of things. Our worst crime is wanting to live happily and safely, to be honest.”

“Your life makes me sad,” Leliana frowned.

“I think we’re going to need to change that,” Alistair frowned, “when all this is over and done with.”

“Cailan said the same thing,” she replied, “said he was going to tear down the walls of the Alienage. But it’s just as much of a sanctuary as it is a prison, in all honesty. The walls keep us relatively safe from humans.”

“Relatively?” Morrigan frowned.

“There are times when humans wander into the alienage in search of easy prey,” she replied, “in any case, you can change the environment well enough, but you can’t easily change people.”

“Oh my goodness it got sadder,” Leliana replied

“Regardless, I’m not going to let that continue,” Alistair replied firmly, “you have my word.”

“Life was hard, sure, but it was also filled with happiness and love,” she shrugged, “but have it your way.”

“Atrast vala, Grey Wardens,” a man from the Legion of the Dead greeted them, “I’ve never seen one of your kind in the Deep Roads.”

“My name is Kallian, and this is Alistair,” she greeted.

“My name is Kardol,” Kardol replied, “well met.”

“You know we’re wardens?” Alistair asked.

“I recognize a fighter of darkspawn,” Kardol replied, “it marks you, it’s why we in the Legion of the Dead abandon our lives, so we can face them without fear. It’s a sacrifice I understand Grey Wardens are familiar with. What do you want here, wardens?”

“We’re looking for Paragon Branka,” she replied.

“Who put this dull idea in your head? We’ve got other things to worry about in…” Kardol trailed off with a heavy sigh, “now I see. The deep lords in the Assembly can’t make up their minds, so the pretenders need added influence. I get that right?”

“Pretty much,” she replied.

“Warden, you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Kardol replied, “Paragon Branka is dead, everyone with sense knows it. Past our line, the darkspawn kill everything.”

“Why hold back?” Sten asked.

“I’d gladly lead an assault through the Dead Trenches, but without an ass in the throne, we have no orders,” Kardol replied, “I won’t take fool’s gold from a pretender. You want to go digging blind? You go right ahead.”

“In any case we’re looking for allies,” Alistair replied.

“It’s an odd tactic, recruiting from the front line,” Kardol sighed, “the darkspawn pitch their camps in our tunnels between your ‘Blights’, you know. Give me a dwarven reason to look topside.”

***

“Well Grey Wardens, I’ll give you credit for backbone,” Kardol sighed, “you’ve dug a line through the spawn. Still no sense in your head, but you’ve got skill.”

“You should be more concerned of the Blight,” Alistair noted.

“Why? The other kingdoms only care when the darkspawn march in the light,” Kardol replied, “but they are always here, always pushing. Your nightmare is my everyday. Our resolve gives you a rest between Blights, a surge on the surface would give us a break. When the time comes, I’ll care for a good dwarven reason. Sod the rest.”

“If they gain control of the surface,” Alistair replied, “it’d be easy for them to attack Orzammar on two fronts. Can you really defend them coming at you from both here and the surface?”

“’Tis quite the surprise,” she hummed, “that Alistair was able to learn so much from you.”

“We both did our best,” Kallian grinned.

She really needed Zevran to hurry up and help Kallian find a new reason to live.

She did not want to lose her to herself.

***

“First day, they come and catch everyone.  
Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat.  
Third day, the men are all gnawed on again.  
Fourth day, we wait, and fear for our fate.  
Fifth day, they return and it’s another girl’s turn.  
Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams.  
Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew.  
Eighth day, we hated as she is violated.  
Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin.  
Now she does feast, as she’s become the beast.”

“That voice,” Oghren mumbled, “that’s Hespith.”

“Who?” she asked.

“She’s one of Branka’s house,” Oghren replied.

“What is this? An elf?” Hespith asked, “exotic and impossible. Feeding time brings only kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers’ faces and open doors.”

“You’ve been forced to eat your kin?” she asked.

“And others. Fresh, not those who turn,” Hespith replied, “killed right here and we’re fed. Laryn first. Bu I am filled… I am… All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon her so that I would be spared. But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?”

“What change? What are they doing?” Leliana asked.

“What they are allowed to do,” Hespith replied, “what they think they must. And Branka… Her lover, and I could not turn her. Forgive her… but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become.”

“What did she do, Hespith?” Oghren asked, “what did Branka do?”

“I will not speak of her!” Hespith shouted, “of what she did, of what we have become! I will not turn! I will not become what I have seen! Not Laryn! Not Branka!”

“What… what happened here?” Oghren wondered, “Branka has to explain this. She has to.”

“Oghren, I hope you don’t hate me for killing your wife,” she stated.

“What was done to these people?” Alistair asked, “there’s worse to come?”

“I have a feeling we’re going to learn where darkspawn come from,” she sighed, “and we’re not going to like it… Sten, if it comes down to it, I’m relying on you to kill me.”

“What?!” Alistair replied in alarm.

“…If that is what you wish,” Sten nodded, “then I will do it. But only if necessary.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, “let’s go.”

“Why Sten?” Zevran asked.

“Because I know that Sten won’t hesitate,” she replied.

“Kalli… your face is scaring me,” Alistair frowned after they’d dealt with the brood-mother.

“Oghren,” Kallian seethed, “I’m going to kill your wife.”

“I agree,” Leliana replied, her expression dark and piercing, “she deserves no less than that… for allowing the women of her house to turn into… that?”

***

“What was that?” Oghren asked in alarm.

“Trouble, probably,” he shrugged.

“When isn’t it trouble, Alistair?” Kallian asked.

“Let me be blunt with you,” a voice said, “after all this time, my tolerance for social graces is fairly limited. That doesn’t bother you, I hope.”

“Shave my back and call me an elf!” Oghren exclaimed, “Branka? By the stone, I barely recognize you!”

“Oghren. It figures you’d eventually find your way here,” Branka replied, “hopefully, you can find your way back more easily. And how shall I address you? Hired sword of the latest lordling to come looking for me? Or just the only one who didn’t mind Oghren’s ale-breath.”

“Be respectful, woman!” Oghren replied, “you’re talking to Grey Wardens!”

“Ah, so an important errand boy, then,” Branka replied, “I suppose something serious has happened. Is Endrin dead? That seems most likely. He was on the old and wheezy side.”

“And how do you know we’re not just helping Oghren?” Kallian asked.

“Because nobody helps Oghren,” Branka replied, “at best, Oghren’s need to find me happened to coincide with the needs of someone more important.”

“You are impossible!” Oghren shouted, “these Grey Wardens have come all the way from the surface to ask your help picking Endrin’s successor.”

“I don’t care if the Assembly puts a drunken monkey on the throne,” Branka replied, “because our protector, our great invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting. The Anvil of the Void. The means by which the ancients forged their army of golems and held off the first archdemon ever to rise. It’s here, so close I can taste it.”

“But there is a catch, isn’t there?” Shale sighed.

“The Anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet of traps designed by Caridin himself,” Branka replied, “my people and I have given body and soul to unlocking its secrets. This is what’s important. This has lasting meaning. If I succeed, the dwarven people benefit. Kings, politics, all that is transitory. I’ve given up everything and would sacrifice anything to get the Anvil of the Void.”

“Clearly,” he replied, “since you’ve sacrificed your entire house.”

“Enough!” Branka shouted, “if you wish me to get involved in this imbecilic election, I must first have the Anvil. There is only one way out, Wardens. Through Caridin’s maze and out to where the Anvil waits.”

“What has this place done to you?!” Oghren shouted, “I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance!”

“I am your Paragon,” Branka stated.

***

She quickly held a cloth up to her face.

“That looks like poison gas,” she stated.

“I can handle it,” Shale chuckled, “since I have no need to breath like you squishy fleshlings.”

“Well then,” Alistair replied wryly, “see if there’s a valve to shut off in there somewhere. Once the air’s clear the rest of us can follow.”

“Found them,” Shale called out, “there were four of them. So you’re aware.”

“Thank you,” she replied as they began waiting for the air to clear out. Which will probably take a while.

“So… That was your wife?” Alistair asked.

“Something like that, yeah,” Oghren sighed.

“I think it should be okay for us to proceed,” she said.

“Let us return to squishing things,” Shale nodded.

***

“I’m so proud of you,” Kallian said after he’d destroyed the Anvil.

“Well,” he shrugged, “we do have a similar sense of justice.”

“True,” Kallian nodded, “but will you be alright, Oghren?”

“Let’s… just get out of here… put someones ass on the throne and call it a day,” Oghren sighed.

***

“Well, it’s official,” she announced after the matter of the crown was settled, “I’m sick of this place.”

“Don’t forget we still have to come back, my dear,” Zevran reminded her.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” she sighed, “what are you going to do now, Oghren?”

“Well, there’s nothing left for me in Orzammar,” Oghren shrugged, “might as well just follow you lot around until I find something else.”

“Yeah, sure, why not? I suppose you have grown on me,” she shrugged, “I can’t wait to see the sky again.”


	40. Campside Interactions Final

“Are you sure Kallian’s a warden and not a servant?” Oghren asked watching Kallian patching up clothes as she also kept an eye on dinner.

“I’ve been wondering that myself,” Sten replied.

“Well, you’ve seen the way she fights, haven’t you?” he asked.

“…Is she even real?” Oghren asked.

“I… think so?” he replied in thought, “OW!”

“Is that enough proof that I’m real?” Kallian grinned after slamming her fist into his head.

“Yes, yes it is,” he frowned.

“By the way,” Oghren continued ignoring them, “do you mind if we make a stop at lake… lake… Cleanbad?”

“You mean Lake Calenhad?” he asked, “why?”

“I know a person who came to the surface,” Oghren replied, “Girl I knew in Orzammar. Before I left, obviously.”

“Oh? Who is she?” Kallian asked.

“Her name’s Felsi,” Oghren replied, “she and I were… friends after Branka left for the Deep Roads. I’m sure she’s forgiven me by now. Thought maybe I’d track her down. See how she’s been living.”

“Well, we were going to the Circle next anyway,” Kallian replied, “might as well take a look, yeah?”

“Wait… Are you okay after handling Branka?” he furrowed his brows.

“Oh, sure,” Oghren replied, “I’m fine with it. I mean, she was a real firebrand between the sheets, but a bit soft in the skull, you know what I mean? Explains why she left, anyway.”

“Oh, I see,” he replied.

“What do you think?” Oghren frowned, “I mean, she was my wife! I spent two years trying to save her, while she was off boffing that tramp and feeding my cousins to darkspawn! And now she’s dead. And there’s no way to ever make things better.”

“If it’s any worth,” Kallian spoke up, “you have my condolences.”

“Maybe finding Felsi will help,” he replied.

“Ha! I guess I could use a bit of the old mortar and pestle, if you’re digging my trench,” Oghren replied.

***

“So, elf,” Oghren turned to him, “aren’t you from a forest?”

“I am from Antiva, Oghren,” he replied brightly, “I don’t go into forests, as a general rule.”

“Huh, I thought you elves were all from forests,” Oghren replied, “with the flowers and the wind and what-not.”

“The Dalish perhaps,” he replied, “most of us were born with a roof over our heads.”

“I was also born with a roof over my head,” Kallian called out, “houses are the best.”

“Then why the sod do we keep hearing about elves frolicking in the thicket and nug-spew like that?” Oghren frowned.

“Could it be that Orzammar’s archives aren’t the most accurate authority on elves?” he asked.

“Heh… Orzammar’s archives are hardly an authority on Orzammar’s archives,” Oghren laughed.

“I’m just cheered,” he replied, “by the thought that you might have picked up a book at some point.”

“Heh… It had pictures,” Oghren chuckled, “dirty ones.”

“Well, naturally,” he sighed.

***

“So Kallian,” Alistair called out to her, “we’ve known each other for a while, right?”

“This is true,” she nodded.

“I’ve told you about my lineage,” Alistair replied, “but you won’t tell me how you became a Grey Warden. Why is that?”

“It’s… a… really bad memory,” she replied, “that… I really don’t like recalling more than I already do.”

“Oh?” Zevran decided to ambush her with a hug, “shall I make it better for you?”

“No,” she sighed, “I’ll probably end up fessing up about it soon. Just… be patient alright?”

“If we must,” Zevran replied blowing into her ear and making her shudder.

***

“Morrigan!” Kallian called approaching her.

“What comes, my friend?” she replied with a small smile.

“I found something,” Kallian replied holding a mirror out to her, “when I saw it, it reminded me of you. The story you told me, with the mirror.”

“It is… just the same as the mirror which Flemeth smashed on the ground so long ago,” she replied tracing the edges of it with her fingers in wonder, “it is incredible that you found one so like it… I am uncertain what to say. You must wish something in return, certainly.”

“Of course not Morrigan,” Kallian laughed, “it’s a gift.”

“You say that as if I should be accustomed to such a thing,” she replied, “I have… never received a gift, not one which did not come at a price…”

“Well, now you have,” Kallian smiled.

“I suppose… I should say thank you,” she replied slowly, “for the gift… ‘tis most thoughtful, truly.”

“You’re welcome,” Kallian smiled brightly.

Every act of kindness she witnessed from Kallian simply made it easier and easier for her to decide.

She would not lose her, to either herself or the Blight.

Even if she were never forgiven.

She could only pray that Zevran could move past the defenses Kallian built around herself, and give her a reason to live before their task was done.

***

“I have watched a lot of humans in my time,” Shale said to her, “it should be aware that I have decided that it is… not much like any of them.”

“Well, I am an elf,” she replied wryly.

“Oh, it’s not just that,” Shale replied, “well… I’m sure that’s part of it, but it’s not only that. Surely it must come from some superior lineage, yes? Some breed of flesh creature that has decided to elevate its genetic stock above its natural shortcomings?”

“We alienage elves are rather hardy,” she nodded.

“Then that must be it. The humans have always spoken about elves being inferior,” Shale replied, “but obviously this is their own stupidity talking.”

“Well, we talk shit about humans as well,” she shrugged, “so it goes both ways. Though I will say that at least they don’t have to worry about getting brutalized for it… Lucky bastards.”

“I would appreciate if it didn’t spread around that I said anything,” Shale whispered, “humans might start getting the wrong idea. They might start thinking their race is not completely hopeless.”

“And we wouldn’t want that!” she grinned.

“Indeed!” Shale shuddered, “can it imagine the horror?”

“The horror indeed,” she replied.

***

“Go get her, Oghren!” she cheered.

“Wait! Now hold on a minute,” Oghren replied, “I need you to back me up on this.”

“…Back you up?” she asked, “she’s not a genlock. You can handle her on your own.”

“You haven’t met her, I take it,” Oghren sighed.

“How… how dangerous can she be?” she furrowed her brows.

“Ah… we parted company under… less than friendly terms,” Oghren replied sheepishly.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“She threw me out of her house and tossed all my clothes into a lava vent,” Oghren replied, “threatened to take a pair of smithing tongs to… well, you get the idea… She always was cute when she was angry.”

“Oh? Like how my dear warden is adorable when she’s pouting?” Zevran asked, “see? Look at that face!”

“Just… go get her Oghren,” she grumbled ducking out of Zevran’s embrace.

“Just be ready to pry her off when she throws herself at me. We don’t want to make a scene here,” Oghren grinned, “well, don’t pry her off me too soon. I mean, a little scene’s all right.”

***

They got to watch Kallian nearly get tackled into the floor.

“Oof,” Kallian groaned, “careful Flynne.”

“But I missed you so much!” Flynne replied with a toothy grin.

“You have a daughter?” Oghren asked suspiciously.

“No way!” Flynne glared, “Aunt Kalli’s single.”

“Not for much longer if I have any say in it,” he grinned.

“No,” Flynne replied flatly, causing Kallian to burst out into a fit of laughter.

“Are you keeping up with your studies?” Kallian asked kneeling on the ground to look Flynne in the eyes.

“Of course!” Flynne replied excitedly.

“Good girl,” Kallian replied ruffling her hair, “I have to talk to Irving for now, so be a dear and wait, alright?”

***

“I have a question for the superior warden,” Shale asked, “if it will indulge me.”

“Okay?” she asked.

“It chose to side with Caridin and destroy the Anvil of the Void,” Shale replied, “I agree with its decision, and yet Paragon Branka was the reason it ventured into the Deep Roads. Why did it choose to defy her? It could not have known for certain that Caridin would be able to assist it with the dwarves.”

“We were willing to risk it,” she replied, “it was the right thing to do.”

“That was… quite the risk,” Shale nodded, “I am pleased that it worked as it did. At any rate, I wanted to thank it. It gave Caridin the end he wanted, and I am pleased to have been a part of it. I will have to think on Caridin’s words to me. It was… a great deal to absorb.”

“Take your time,” she replied brightly.

“Wait,” Shale stopped her, “I do have a request.”

“What’s up?”

“Shayle of House Cadash,” Shale replied in thought, “is that who I once was? I find this difficult to believe.”

“You’re tall for a dwarf,” she grinned.

“I am not a dwarf,” Shale replied defensively, “or, at least, I am not a dwarf any longer. If I was this Shayle of House Cadash as Caridin said, there must be some evidence of my existence remaining. I must find it.”

“We’re going back to Orzammar,” she replied, “to tell Dagna the good news, among some other things. Perhaps there are records in the Shaperate?”

“There is another way,” Shale replied, “what Caridin said, it has allowed me to remember one thing: I believe I know where Cadash Thaig is.”

“We can go there if you’d like,” she offered.

“It’s offer is appreciated,” Shale nodded, “I will mark the location on its map. If we can journey there soon, I am most curious as to what we will find.”

***

“You know what would do you some good?” Oghren asked.

“A pair of nose plugs?” he replied.

“Go out, find a girl,” Oghren replied, “doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s no pants involved.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?” he asked

“I can smell purity a mile away,” Oghren replied, “it’s a talent.”

“Are you sure you’re not smelling Kallian?” he raised a brow.

“…it could be,” Oghren replied in thought, “would be much better if I could smell cheese.”

“You have my deepest condolences,” he replied.

“Yep, so do you,” Oghren replied.

***

“This… This is it,” Shale said in bewilderment, “Cadash Thaig.”

“Shall we get a better look?” she asked.

“These ruins are always overrun by vermin,” Shale replied, “there may be something noteworthy further in, however.”

“There really are a lot of high quality augmentation crystals in this place,” she noted, “it’s also far more… green than I expected. Did not think that plants could grow down here.”

“Was this a home once?” Shale asked herself.

“Do you remember anything?” she asked.

“This… this I remember,” Shale replied staring at a monument, “it has dates and names… This is to honor those who volunteered, those who became golems… And there is my name… Shayle of House Cadash. Just as Caridin said. I remember, now. I remember Shayle. That was… me.”

“You remember… that’s wonderful!” she replied, “what do you want to do now?”

“Wonderful to remember being a soft, squishy creature of flesh?” Shale scoffed, “perhaps. I will need to think on these things I have learned. Perhaps I will speak to it of them soon.”

“Take your time,” she nodded.

***

His sword… She had found his sword.

He did not think it possible, not with the civil war and Blight wracking the land, sowing destruction and chaos.

But here it was, the familiar weight and feel of it within his hands.

“Strange,” he found himself saying, “I had almost forgotten it. Completion. Are you sure you are a Grey Warden? I think you must be an ashkaari to find a single lost blade in a country at war.”

“What will you do now?” Kallian asked.

“My sword is in my hand again,” he replied, “I shall put it to use… And I think I could deliver a much more satisfying answer to the arishok’s question if the Blight were ended, don’t you agree?”

“Most definitely,” Kallian nodded.


	41. The Past that Comes Haunting

“You’ve acquired all the allies you could, yes?” Eamon noted, “that’s good. We can call the Landsmeet, if you’re ready.”

“Dwarves: Check. Dalish: Check. Mages: Check,” she counted off on her fingers, “all we need is the Ferelden standing army, I believe.”

“I would prefer not giving Loghain time to consider,” Eamon replied, “I do not wish to go to Denerim unless you are with me.”

“We’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” Alistair nodded firmly.

“You’ve come a long way,” she replied with pride.

“You’re still not my mother,” Alistair sighed.

“From what I’ve understood,” Elissa sighed angrily, “Arl Howe has been appointed Teryn of Highever. I refuse to allow this to stand. On the honor of my family, he will answer to this.”

“Don’t worry,” Alistair nodded, “he will. I swear it.”

“He’s also apparently been appointed Arl of Denerim,” Eamon added, causing her blood to freeze.

Two sons of arls, two paragons, an arl/teyrn, and a king regent. 

How many important people is she going to end up killing in one year? This was getting ridiculous. Did she somehow become an assassin and without her knowledge?

Wait, she had dealings with Ignacio, so some of it was with her knowledge. But he didn’t ask her to kill all those people, he just told her about people who would help weaken Arl Howe’s support.

“Kalli,” Leliana stated, “you look confused.”

“I feel confused,” she replied flatly, “how did my life become this in less than a year?”

“Apparently,” Alistair replied, “a lot of things happen when you become a Grey Warden.”

***

“I’ve a question for you lot,” Oghren spoke up one night, “what do you even know about Kallian?”

Kallian was off happily chatting with Morrigan.

“…Other than her personality and looks?” he sighed, “next to nothing. And trust me, it isn’t for lack of trying. I’ve been trying to win her over since we met.”

“She… refuses to open up about her past, for some reason,” Alistair nodded, “though it’s obviously painful for her so…”

“I do wonder about her sometimes,” Leliana decided to join their discussion, “I know that she wears a ring around her neck, but she wouldn’t say what meaning it has to her, exactly.”

“A ring?” he asked perking up, “from a man?”

Jealousy. He’d come to realize that that pang of irritation he felt towards the dead man was jealousy.

“Don’t worry Zevran,” Leliana giggled, “her love was unrequited remember? I doubt she would accept something like that from someone who didn’t love her. She’s very… sentimental, she appreciates things given to her from the heart.”

“Her fighting prowess suggests years of training,” Sten added, “but her skills are… varied.”

“And she said that she’d never killed a person before until after she met Duncan,” Alistair replied.

“Are you sure she’s even a real person?” Oghren frowned.

“Are you implying that she’s a demon?” Wynne asked.

“The superior warden is not, in fact, a demon,” Shale added, “I think I would know.”

“No, no,” Oghren replied waving his hands, “just… are you sure that she isn’t… just a figment of our imaginations or something?”

“No,” he sighed, “if she were a figment of my imagination we’d have slept together by now. Many times.”

***

“It has occurred to me that I have been…” Shale sighed, “excuse me, this is not easy… It occurs to me that I have been less than charitable with it since it reanimated me.”

“You have good reasons for that,” she replied, “in my opinion anyway.”

“I have come to realize that it has been good to me… you have been good to me…” Shale replied slowly, “even though you had no control rod to enforce obedience.”

“Well…” she shrugged, “you’re a person. No matter what you think or what others may have told you.”

“Yes, well, this is why I like the superior warden so,” Shale replied, “I have… never had one before, so I don’t know how to thank you… For being… you know.”

“A soft, squishy flesh creature?” she chuckled.

“That too,” Shale sighed, “but also… a…friend. I followed you expecting to find answers to my questions, but I think I have found something better.”

“I’m honored, Shale,” she smiled.

“Now let us not speak of this awkward bonding moment ever again,” Shale replied quickly.

“As you wish,” she replied.

***

“Hey you!” Oghren yelled.

“Hey me!” Kallian replied cheerily.

“I was thinking,” Oghren replied, “we’ve been through a lot together now. We’re like... Old war buddies. So I figured, why not invite you to share a drink? A drink from my own stash, my family’s recipe and dedicated to my comrades in arms.”

“I’d be honored,” Kallian replied.

He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, all his attempts at figuring out where the dwarf acquired his alcohol stash… did not leave a good impression on him.

“Yes! The Warden steps up!” Oghren cheered loudly handing her a bottle.

Oh, no, he wasn’t going to make it in time to stop her.

“You handled that like a champion, my friend,” Oghren laughed loudly, “most impressive! How do you feel?”

“I feel great,” Kallian grinned, “got any more?”

“Oh, no. The rest is for me,” Oghren shook his head, “you’d need to do something really unspeakable to get into the rest of my stash.”

Perhaps he was worried for nothing. She was a strong one, his warden.

“I… I just wanted to tell you, after all we’ve been through, you’re like family to me,” Oghren said getting a little emotional, “closest thing I’ve had in years.”

“D’aww,” Kallian replied, “I feel the same way. You can be like… my older brother.”

“Aw, Warden,” Oghren replied, “I do believe I’m getting all misty-eyed… but that could be because those beans are getting chatty, if you know what I mean.”

“I will vacate the area then,” Kallian laughed, “never change, Oghren.”

***

She looked out at her companions, the people she’d come to see as extended family, with a mournful smile.

She’d done her best, and she was certain that they were prepared.

A stab of pain in her heart, she’d inflict one last round of suffering and pain upon them.

She desperately prayed that they’d be able to find happiness after she was gone.

She hoped Zevran would forgive her, she hoped he’d be able to move on, and to that end: she would never admit her feelings out loud. It’d just make it harder on the both of them. He’d suffered enough, he didn’t deserve to suffer over her as well.

It was… strange though.

She had once been at peace with her fate, but now… Now it was unsettling. But she could not let her resolve weaken. She could not. To protect those she loved, to protect everyone and everything that she cherished, this needed to be done. There was no other way.

No other way… She fought the tears that burned at the back of her throat, the pain that wracked her heart.

Her love truly would be the end of her.

***

She could sense it: Kallian’s resolve was weakening.

She hated that she had to emotionally manipulate her like this. She really truly did, but she could not see it done any other way.

Even though she didn’t care if Kallian forgave her or not, she still prayed that she would.

What she was doing… What she was going to do… For her, it was out of necessity: Kallian deserved better. Deserved more. Deserved a happier life.

And she would make sure that such a future came to pass. She refused to allow Kallian’s story to end like this. She would not allow it. Not when it was in her power to change it. Not when it was in her power to save her sister. Not when it was in her power to ensure her survival.

No matter what Kallian had thought, they would never be prepared to survive without her. Kallian meant far more to them than she’d ever give them credit for. Kallian’s love had touched all of them so deeply, so completely that imagining life without it was… painful.

Just thinking about it was enough to wrack her entire being with pain. She would not lose her like this. 

She would not.

***

“Loghain, this is… an honor,” Eamon said addressing Loghain, “that the regent would find time to greet me personally.”

“How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?” Loghain replied.

“The Blight is why I’m here,” Eamon replied, “with Cailan dead, Ferelden must have a king to lead it against the darkspawn.”

“Ferelden has a strong leader: its queen,” Loghain argued, “and I lead her armies.”

“Considering Ostagar,” he replied dryly causing Loghain’s eyes to sweep over to them, “perhaps we need a better general.”

“Well, if it isn’t the Grey Warden recruit,” Loghain frowned looking at Kallian, “I thought we might meet again.”

“I didn’t,” Kallian replied, “I kind of figured I’d have ended up dead in a ditch somewhere by now, but what can you do?”

“You have my sympathies on what happened to your order,” Loghain replied, “it is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Ferelden.”

“Thank you for your sympathies,” Kallian replied, “however, I only met two of them. Ferelden is my home, however, and I’d personally rather not see it fall.”

“Then what are you doing here, and now?” Loghain asked.

“What we need to,” Kallian replied refusing to back down.

It was moments like these that he admired Kallian’s strength and backbone.

“You’ve some nerve,” Cauthrien said cutting in, “to talk to your betters like this.”

“Enough, Cauthrien, this is not the time or place,” Loghain replied, “there is talk that your illness left you feeble, Eamon. Some worry that you may no longer be fit to advise Ferelden.”

“Illness? Why not call your poison by its true name?” Eamon asked crossing his arms, “not everyone at the Landsmeet will cast aside their loyalties as easily as you and these… sycophants.”

“How long you’ve been gone from court, Eamon!” Loghain replied, “don’t you recognize Rendon Howe? Arl of Amaranthine, and Teyrn of Highever?”

“And current arl of Denerim, since Urien’s unfortunate fate at Ostagar, though I understand we have one of your group to thank for that,” Howe added, “the regent has been… generous to those who prove loyal.”

“Teyrn of…?!” Elissa glared, “only because you killed my family!”

“It is quite a shame they were all killed in an… insurrection,” Howe replied, “however, I do not appreciate you putting the blame on me for that.”

“Enough,” Loghain said holding up a hand, “I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Eamon. Our people are frightened: our king is dead, our land is under siege. We must be united now, if we are to endure this crisis. Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? You divide our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight with your selfish ambitions to the throne.”

“And yet you’re allowing Ferelden to fall to the darkspawn,” he replied, “by ‘protecting’ Ferelden, you are destroying it. I hope you understand.”

“Cailan depended on the Grey Warden’s prowess against the darkspawn, and look how well that ended,” Loghain replied, “let us speak of reality, rather than tall tales. Stories will not save us.”

“I agree,” he shot back, “they will not. However, you are still undermining Ferelden and leading it to its downfall.”

“I cannot forgive what you’ve done, Loghain,” Eamon sighed, “perhaps the Maker can, but not I. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight.”

“And you can bet that I’m fully prepared to,” he added.

“The emperor of Orlais also thought that I could not bring him down,” Loghain replied getting into Eamon’s face before marching out, “expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is nothing I would not do for my homeland.”

“Well, that was… bracing,” Eamon sighed after they’d left, “I didn’t expect Loghain to show himself quite so soon. However, you handled yourself well, Alistair. You should be proud.”

“I know I am,” Kallian grinned.

“I had a good teacher,” he sighed, “a teacher who needs to stop getting emotional at all my accomplishments.”

“What now?” Kallian asked.

“Calling the Landsmeet is only the start,” Eamon replied, “now we must ensure that every noble there sees Loghain’s duplicity. We have no small task ahead of us. We need eyes and ears in the city. Loghain has been here for months. The roots of all his schemes must begin here. The sooner we find them, the better we can turn them to our advantage.”

“I have a few things lined up that should prove to our advantage,” Kallian nodded.

“Good, find the nobles who have arrived for the Landsmeet as well,” Eamon replied, “test the waters, see how many will support us. When you’re ready to talk strategy, come upstairs to my sitting room. We can lay out our plans for the Landsmeet then.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

“We should be ready by supper time,” Kallian replied.

“Alright you three,” he said turning to Kallian, Leliana, and Zevran, “go do what you do best.”

“Music to my ears,” Zevran grinned.

***

And the day had such a promising start, he sighed.

They’d watched Kallian be forever banned from a certain armory shop, accepted another job from Ignacio… And now this.

“And so here is the mighty Grey Warden at long last,” Taliesen announced, the Crows send their greetings, once again.”

“So they sent you, Taliesen?” he asked, “or did you volunteer for the job?”

The look on Kallian’s face was… heartbreaking.

“I volunteered, of course,” Taliesen replied, “when I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself.”

“Is that so?” he sighed, “well, here I am. In the flesh.”

“You can return with me, Zevran,” Taliesen offered, “I know why you did this, and I don’t blame you. It’s not too late. Come back and we’ll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake.”

“Of course, I’d need to be dead, first,” Kallian sighed heavily, “can’t you… just come back after the Blight’s been dealt with?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I’m not going to just let that happen.”

“What?!” Taliesen glared, “you’ve gone soft!”

“I’m sorry, my old friend,” he replied, “but the answer is no. I’m not coming back… and you should have stayed in Antiva.”

And now Taliesen was dead, and he was free of the Crows.

“Are you going to be okay?” Kallian asked searching his face.

“They will assume that I am dead, along with Taliesen,” he sighed, “so long as I do not make my presence known to them, they will not seek me out.”

“Is that a good thing?” Kallian asked her brows delightfully furrowed.

“A very good thing,” he replied, “it is, in fact, what I had hoped for ever since you decided not to kill me.”

“I’m glad then,” Kallian nodded, “I suppose.”

“I suppose it would be possible for me to leave, now, if I wished. I could go far away, somewhere where the Crows would never find me,” he replied, testing the waters, wondering what she’d say in response.

“If you’d like,” Kallian replied, “your life is your own, remember?”

Not the answer he was looking for.

He knew what he felt for her now, but… not exactly how to explain it, or put it into words.

“I think, however, that I could also stay here,” he replied, “I made an oath to help you, after all. And saving the world seems a worthy task to see through to the end, yes?”

“I’m glad to hear it, then,” Kallian smiled, “I’d probably feel a little lonely if you just up and decided to leave.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” he grinned, “I’d best stay, lest the consequences become unseemly.”

“Well, take your time,” Kallian nodded.

Idly, he wondered what he meant to her.

He hoped he meant the same to her as she did to him.

***

She was a little worried for Zevran, so they called it a day a bit earlier than anticipated, and now they were on their way to Eamon’s study.

She felt the blood drain from her face.

“What’s wrong?” Eamon asked concerned.

“I… just not really looking forward to this,” she replied quietly.

“I have some uniforms. Arl Howe hires so many new guards everyday, a few more will not cause a stir,” Erlina explained, “I will show you to the servants’ entrance. We must slip in and out with my queen before anyone is the wiser.”

“Not… Not necessary,” she replied moving to sit in a chair with her head in her hands, “I… I know my way around.”

“What?!” Alistair asked in alarm.

“I…” she sighed heavily, “there’s no way for me to forget that place. Absolutely no way. It haunts my dreams.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Zevran asked.

“Confession time,” she replied sitting up straight, “I killed Vaughan Kendalls and his estate full of armed guards. Both on and off duty.”

“Why would you?!” Alistair replied in shock.

“Because I needed to,” she sighed in frustration, “I… anyway, that’s how I got conscripted into the Grey Wardens. Duncan decided to interfere with my arrest and I was kicked out of Denerim. More or less.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alistair asked with concern.

“Not now,” she replied quietly, “when this is over and done with, maybe. But not now. Alistair, you should stay here in Arl Eamon’s estate, we’ll be back soon…”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Alistair asked.

“Probably,” she sighed heavily, “we’ll see.”


	42. Hidden Truths

After much deliberation on his part, he finally decided to muster up the nerve to continue forwards, and harshly pulled Kallian into a separate room before they left Eamon’s estate.

“Yes?” Kallian asked looking at him blankly.

He couldn’t take this look on her face any longer, and decided to steal a kiss.

Which did cause her to react as he expected: flustered and confused.

“Here,” he replied grabbing her hand and placing an earring within it, “it seems an appropriate moment to give you this.”

“Oh?” Kallian asked, “does this mean we’re married in Antiva?”

Marriage… That didn’t sound like such a bad idea, if it were to Kallian, anyway.

“Let’s hope not!” he laughed trying to cover up his thoughts.

“Ouch,” Kallian flinched, “that hurts. That’s hurtful.”

He chose poorly.

“I acquired it on my very first job for the Crows,” he explained trying to clear the air, “a Rivaini merchant prince, and he was wearing a single, jeweled earring when I killed him. In fact, that’s about all he was wearing. I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I’ve kept it since… and I’d like you to have it.”

“This… is a bit out of the blue, don’t you think?” Kallian replied with furrowed brows.

“Don’t get the wrong idea about it,” he replied, “you killed Taliesen, as far as the Crows will be concerned, I died with him. That means I’m free, at least for now. Feel free to sell it, or wear it… or whatever you’d like. It’s really the least I could give you in return.”

He really hoped she didn’t sell it.

“So, not a token of affection then,” Kallian replied blankly.

“I... Look, just take it,” he sighed in frustration, “it’s meant a lot to me, but so have… so has what you’ve done. Please, take it.”

“I’ll only accept it if it means something,” Kallian replied handing it back.

“You are a very frustrating woman to deal with,” he frowned, “do you know that?”

“I’ve been told so, yes,” Kallian replied flatly.

“We pick up every other bit of treasure we come across, but not this,” he replied exasperated, “you don’t want the earring? You don’t get the earring. Very simple.”

***

Inwardly, she let out a sigh of relief. There was no way she could accept something that clearly meant a lot to him, not with how her future looked. Not with the heavy weight of the ring around her neck.

She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t.

She just… couldn’t.

***

Elissa had decided to join them as they were probably going to confront Howe, and there was no way that she was going to be left behind for this.

“I’m so happy,” Kallian said dully, “to return to the site of my suicide mission.”

“But you are alive?” Elissa remarked.

“Yeah,” Kallian replied emotionless, “it was my failed suicide mission.”

He did not know how to feel. He had never seen his warden so… dead.

“This room is where I killed my first person,” Kallian said idly, “people, I suppose… it was a double kill.”

She was clearly reliving the events that had played out, her fists clenched so hard he was worried that she might draw blood.

“Zevran,” Leliana whispered, “we need to keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious,” he sighed.

“This room is where my heart was shattered,” Kallian said as they continued through the estate.

And then Kallian let out a bark of laughter.

“How ironic,” Kallian said, “that this is where Howe is.”

“How is it ironic?” Elissa asked hesitantly.

“This… this is where I lost my mind,” Kallian replied, “where I killed Vaughan Kendalls.”

Kallian’s lack of emotion, her lack of life… hurt him more than any physical wound he could ever receive.

“Oh, nice trick,” Kallian said monotonously after they watched a man free himself.

The man introduced himself as a fellow Grey Warden, and recognized Kallian as Duncan’s newest recruit.

“Yeah,” Kallian replied, “nice to meet you. Here’s your papers, and if you’ll excuse us we have a tour to finish.”

“A tour?” Elissa asked in alarm.

“These are the dungeons where I should have been left to rot,” Kallian replied gesturing around them, “tour finished. Huzzah.”

“We should free any prisoners we come across,” Leliana noted.

“Sounds good,” Kallian replied, “who knows who Howe imprisoned that can help with the Landsmeet.”

“Well, well. Byce Cousland’s little spitfire,” Howe said sarcastically, “all grown up and still playing the man. I thought Loghain made it clear that your pathetic family is gone and forgotten.”

“You won’t forget,” Elissa hissed, “their memory drove me to you.”

“Your parents died on their knees,” Howe laughed, “your brother’s corpse rots in Ostagar, and his brat was burned on a scrap heap along with his Antivan whore of a wife. And what’s left?”

“You won’t be,” Elissa snarled, “why did you betray us?! My father was your friend!”

“There it is,” Howe glared, “right there! That damned look in the eye that marked every Cousland success that held me back… It would appear that you have made something of yourself after all. Your father would be pleased. I’m sure. I, on the other hand, want you dead more than ever.”

“This’ll be the first arl I’ve killed,” Kallian stated dully, “moving up in the world. Carving my way through politics.”

“It pains me to say this, but my dear,” he remarked, “you would make an excellent Crow.”

“Maker spit on you,” Howe glared with the last of his strength, “I deserved more.”

“No, you deserved exactly what you got,” Elissa replied before dealing the finishing blow.

“Yaaay,” Kallian cheered emotionlessly, “let’s go get Anora out and…”

“Kallian,” Elissa said interrupting her, “I hope you know, that once this whole business is over and done with, Alistair will pardon you of all your crimes.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Kallian waved her hand around dismissively, “I really don’t.”

If Kallian didn’t deserve to be pardoned of her crimes… then who did?

Once again, he recalled Morrigan’s words to him: Kallian was indeed breaking, more than she already had been.

Seeing her like this was heart breaking.

***

“I surrender,” Kallian said holding her hands up.

They could only watch helplessly, while she allowed herself to be captured, completely void of emotion.

They quickly escorted Anora back to Eamon’s estate, she forced Zevran to return there with her, especially since he looked about ready to kill everyone.

“Eamon!” Anora shouted, “we have a problem!”

“Oh, good,” Alistair replied, “I was starting to worry this would be easy… Wait, where’s Kallian?”

“Andraste watch over our friends in danger,” she prayed.

“I suspect,” Zevran sighed in frustration, “that we are going to need a good plan, or a lot of knights. Or perhaps both.”

“Calm down,” Eamon replied, “what has happened?”

“Kallian surrendered and allowed herself to be captured so that we could escape,” Anora explained, “how are we going to free her? Cauthrien will take her to Fort Drakon. Getting in will be no small feat…”

“I feel like… Kallian could probably save herself,” Alistair replied slowly.

“If she were at her best?” Zevran shot back, “definitely. But as she is now? She is probably laying on the floor blankly staring at the ceiling.”

“Thinking that things are better this way,” she added, “and that she deserves no less than this.”

“Right, we’re going to need to rescue her then,” Alistair sighed.

“I think that Zevran and I can probably handle this well enough,” she replied, “we can’t be the Trio of Tricksters without our third member, after all.”

“Oh, I agree,” Zevran replied.

***

“Making a delivery for the kennels, ser,” Leliana stated, “beef bones for the dogs.”

“I wasn’t told about anything being shipped in today,” the guard replied.

“Well, could you ask someone?” Leliana asked batting her eyelashes, “pretty please?”

“Fine, wait over there,” the guard sighed heavily, “I’ll get the captain.”

“This’ll be easy,” he noted, “very easy. I do not know why Anora thought that this would be difficult.”

“It would probably be difficult for her,” Leliana shrugged.

“All right,” the captain demanded, “what’s this about?”

“A delivery,” he bluffed, “for which I still have not been paid, by the way.”

“No one told me about any deliveries today,” the captain glowered.

“I cannot imagine why not,” he replied, “surely your commanding officer informs you whenever he is having items of a… personal nature delivered to him.”

“What is— no,” the captain sighed heavily, “I don’t want to know. Go on in.”

He shared a grin with Leliana before moving along.

“State your business,” the next guard said to them as they approached the next checkpoint.

“This is a crime,” he replied dramatically.

“What?” the guard asked in alarm.

“For a young woman in the prime of her life to waste away…” he sighed, “I suppose there is some comfort in the knowledge that you sacrifice your youth and beauty, the best years of your life, for your kingdom, but it seems… such a loss.”

“I… hadn’t really thought of it like that…” the guard replied.

“How noble, to sacrifice the pleasures of life so others might enjoy them,” he replied, “your idealism is impressive.”

“You know… you’re right,” the guard frowned, “three Satinalias in a row, they’ve struck me on barracks duty. Three! I’m going to live my life before it’s too late. Let somebody else guard their stupid door.”

“How can you talk her out of her job,” Leliana asked quietly, “but not convince Kallian to sleep with you?”

“It’s a wonder,” he sighed, “I know.”

***

She heard the sounds of fighting from her prison cell.

She yawned, it was probably Leliana and Zevran. They could be so damn protective at times.

They always seemed adamant on saving her, even if it were from herself.

She didn’t really understand why though.

“There you are!” Leliana smiled opening her cell door.

“What are you guys doing here?” she sighed.

“Saving you of course!” Zevran replied brightly.

“Come on, the arl is waiting for us,” Leliana said hauling her to her feet.

“Ah, my dear Warden,” Zevran grinned, “did you miss me?”

“I suppose,” she sighed, “shall we, then? Wouldn’t want to waste your trip here.”

“Oh, good,” Zevran replied cheerily, “I thought we were going to have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming.”

“I’d rather not be dragged anywhere,” she frowned before letting the other prisoner out.

***

He immediately grabbed her wrist right as she made to bolt for the exit.

Kallian stared back at him, eyes wide and feral.

“Kallian, my dear,” he said soothingly, “calm down.”

“My home,” Kallian seethed, “there is unrest in my home!”

“But we still have some matters to attend to here, yes?” he tried to reason with her.

“Fine,” Kallian replied in a clipped voice.

He noticed Kallian’s expression darken when Anora revealed who truly ruled the nation for the last five years.

“Her fault,” Kallian hissed lowly after Anora had left, “then it was her fault we had trash like Vaughan Kendalls strolling into the Alienage.”

“What are your thoughts on this matter?” Eamon asked carefully.

“Alistair, Elissa,” Kallian sighed slamming the door closed to ensure no one eavesdropped.

She was obviously struggling to contain her rage.

“What?” Alistair asked, “what’s wrong?”

“You, marry Elissa, strongest bid for the throne,” Kallian replied lowly, “I’ll go talk to Anora, I hate using underhanded methods but it seems like our best bet. After I’m done you can either stay here or keep up. I’m not going to wait for you.”

And then she was gone.

They’d all decided that Kallian would probably end up getting herself killed, and they had no way of knowing exactly when she’d go to the alienage. So now they were waiting at the alienage gates for her.

“I hope she knows what she’s doing…” Alistair mumbled.

“I’m just excited that we’ll be getting some answers about her,” he replied.

“That would be nice too,” Alistair nodded.

“It would be nice to see the environment in which she grew up,” Leliana nodded.

“And I need to give some of them a good finger wagging,” Wynne frowned, “not letting her practice things?”

“That was a rather odd thing for them to do, yes,” he shrugged.

They didn’t have to wait long, Kallian came blitzing towards the alienage gates in no time.

The sights that greeted them… Certainly left something to be desired.

“Now I really feel like I’m home,” Kallian sighed happily.

“This is home for you?” Wynne frowned.

“Honestly?” Kallian replied, “I prefer living like this than in comfort and riches. Comfort and riches just makes me feel antsy.”

“Interesting…” was all Alistair could say.

“That’s my house,” Kallian said pointing she started to head towards it but then changed the direction she was moving in, “I know that voice!”

“Kallian! Wait up!” Leliana called.

“SHIANNI!” they heard her scream, telling them where she was.

“I don’t believe it…” Shianni replied in shock, “Kalli… is that really you?”

“Shianni I missed you so so so much,” Kallian replied hugging her tightly.

“Maker’s breath… Kalli! They said all the Grey Wardens died with the king,” Shianni replied, “everyone thought… Valendrian even held a funeral for you!”

“I’m alive!” Kallian replied, “Shianni, this is Zevran, Leliana, Wynne, Sten, Morrigan, Alistair, Shale, and Oghren. Everyone this is my cousin Shianni.

“Nice to meet you,” Shianni nodded.

“So this is the rumored Shianni,” he replied thoughtfully.

“Where’s Soris?” Kallian asked.

“He’s at your house,” Shianni replied, “he was staying with Alarith but… well things are a little tense right now. A lot of people blame him. Can you believe that? They blame Soris as if he were responsible for what the new arl did to us!”

“What… what did he do?” Kallian asked slowly.

“You don’t know?” Shianni replied in bewilderment, “oh… of course you don’t. Kalli, after your wedding… you have no idea the things that happened… I’m so happy to see you again.”

“A wedding?!” he asked in shock, “you’re married?”

“It… never actually took place,” Kallian replied.

“No? You left him at the alter, didn’t you?” he grinned.

“In… a manner of speaking,” Kallian replied.

“At least we can be sure you looked stunning for the occasion,” he replied.

“I’ll tell you more about it later,” Shianni promised, “but right now… after you left, the regent appointed a new arl. Rendon Howe. The first thing the human did was march troops in here for a purge.”

“A… purge…?” Kallian asked, her legs looked as if they were about to give out from under her, “they… led a purge?”

“Some people— the stupid ones, mostly— blame you and Soris for standing up to Vaughan,” Shianni explained steadying her.

“It’s a fact that Howe sent the soldiers here because of Vaughan’s death, Shianni,” another elf replied angrily, “even you know that.”

“I… this… this is my fault isn’t it?” Kallian replied in shock, “this… this is all my fault…”

“Kalli, no,” Shianni replied, “is it a fact? Really? So we should take everything the humans say at face value? We’re all lazy, vulgar, thieves then? That’s what they say, isn’t it?”

Well, he could certainly see how they were related.

“You just don’t care how much trouble you bring down on us, do you?” another elf addressed them angrily, “must be nice to be above your own people.”

“Who brought Vaughan here in the first place?!” Kallian shot back, “tell me what we did to deserve that!”

“What did we do to deserve that? Tell me that and maybe I’ll start caring what you think,” Shianni glared, “idiot. Elves wind up dead in the Market gutters every day over a wrong word, or a look, or nothing at all. That’s how it’s always been. We fight back, or we submit, but it doesn’t change anything! I’m not about to shed a tear over that butcher Howe’s death. If I could I’d kick his grave marker and dance on his ashes.”

“You say that like he’ll have a grave marker,” Kallian replied, “but don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel.”

“We’d be here all day,” Shianni grinned, “and I’d still have more to tell you, Kalli.”

“Where’s my father?” Kallian finally asked.

“Ah… well, maybe we should go somewhere so you can be sitting down when I tell you this,” Shianni said carefully.

“Just… tell me?” Kallian replied.

“You have to know: the Tevinters quarantined your father yesterday,” Shianni explained, “I told him not to go to the hospice! Not one elf they’ve taken in there has come out again! Who knows what’s become of them?”

“Right, well,” Kallian stated, “I’m going to go take a look.”

“I knew you’d do something, Kalli,” Shianni replied, “Maker watch over you.”

“So, what was this about a wedding?” he asked after Kallian had been taken into the hospice.

“It… was bad… really, really bad,” Shianni replied, “I promise, once Kalli comes back we’ll sit down and talk about it. Kalli probably hasn’t said anything about it right?”

“You know her well,” Leliana nodded.

“She wouldn’t,” Shianni replied, “especially… especially because I was involved.”

“Kallian has said that the man she loved, loved another woman though,” he recounted thoughtfully.

“What?” Shianni asked in shock, “no! Kalli loved Nelaros, and Nelaros loved Kalli. It was completely mutual! I even have the letters to prove it!”

“I feel lied to,” Alistair replied.

“It’s… probably because Kalli blames herself more than anything for everything,” Shianni explained, “so she tried to separate it from herself and in doing so killed off that part of her…”

“I see,” Leliana replied in thought.

Their further chat was interrupted by a feral roar and the door to the hospice being violently thrown open, and a group of elves fleeing from the hospice.

“Kallian’s back!” one of them cheered running out from the hospice laughing maniacally, “Kallian’s back! Suck it Tevinter! Kallian’s back!”


	43. Kallian

“Oh… Oh no…” Shianni gasped, “oh no… Something bad… this means that there is something really really bad! Kalli only gets like this when she needs to protect people!”

“SLAVERS SHIANNI!” Kallian roared after she made swift work of them, “they were fucking slavers!”

“What… Oh no! Kalli you’ve got to hurry!” Shianni replied.

“I know!” Kallian replied before… completely vanishing.

“You have to go after her! Quick!” Shianni yelled at them, “she’ll get herself killed! Through the back alleys! Go!”

Following Kallian proved easy enough, her trail was marked by mangled corpses and bloody foot prints.

“Maker’s breath… I didn’t even think she was capable of this,” Alistair said in shock.

“I don’t know if even Kallian knew she was capable of this,” Wynne replied.

“Kallian?! KALLIAN!” a voice was shouting spurring them to run even faster, “Kallian wake up! Not again! Don’t make me lose you again!”

When they burst through the door, Kallian was laying in the arms of an older man, unconscious and bleeding.

“Who are you?” the man glared at them, moving to keep between them, “you stay away from her.”

“I’m a healer!” Wynne shouted running past him, “let me see her!”

“Please… please tell me she’s going to be okay,” the man replied wearily, after sensing the danger had passed, he fretted behind Wynne.

“She’ll be fine,” Wynne nodded, “Kallian’s made of stronger stuff than this.”

“Forgive me,” Cyrion replied, “my name is Cyrion, and I’m her father.”

“Help me carry her,” Wynne said nodding to the rest of them, “is there somewhere we can move her?”

“Yes,” Cyrion nodded, “follow me… I feel that there is much explaining that needs to be done.”

He refused to allow the others to touch her, even though it would have made much more sense to let Sten carry her.

“I think we’re about to finally get some answers regarding Kallian,” Leliana noted.

“It’s certainly been a long time coming,” Alistair nodded.

As soon as he lay Kallian on the bed, she began to stir.

“What…?” Kallian said groggily, “we need—”

“Kallian,” Cyrion said stopping her from getting up, “I need you to listen to me carefully, okay?”

“Uh huh?” Kallian replied in a daze.

“It’s okay to be weak right now,” Cyrion said soothingly.

And as if a spell was lifted, Kallian began wailing loudly as her father comforted her, holding her and rocking her back and forth.

She really was just an ordinary alienage girl.

“We should leave her to Uncle Cyrion,” Shianni said leading them out of the room, “it sounds like she’s been needing that for a while.”

“Um, hello,” Soris said hesitantly, “I’m Soris, her other cousin. We were supposed to get married on the same day.”

“Right!” Alistair said suddenly, “what happened with that?”

The two cousins shared a look.

“On the day of our double wedding,” Soris started, “Vaughan, the old Arl of Denerim’s son decided that he needed ‘entertainment’ for a ‘party’ so he came here with a contingent of armed guards.”

“Kalli tried to settle it diplomatically,” Shianni added darkly, “but he knocked her out and forced us to follow them… They locked us into a room, and they killed Nola because she was crying, because she was scared.”

“After they’d been taken from the alienage, Nelaros, her fiance lost it on everyone who wanted to ‘hope for the best’ and that Grey Warden, Duncan, lent us some weapons for a rescue mission,” Soris explained, “but neither Nelaros nor I really knew how to fight. Somehow I managed to get to Kalli right before they tied her up, Vaughan wanted to keep her for last. Said he liked her looks. After that we moved to rendezvous with Nelaros who’d given me the weapons for her to use and stayed to guard the hall… But he was cut down as soon as we got there… He died in Kalli’s arms…”

“That ring Kalli wears around her neck,” Shianni nodded and clenched her hands tightly, “that’s the ring he had made for her… Kalli fought so hard to reach me… to reach us in time… but by the time she’d gotten to me… It was already too late. She completely lost her mind.”

That earring he tried to give her weighed heavily in his pocket.

“She’d always intended to take the blame,” Soris added, “she had me leave my weapons behind, and moved so that everyone only looked at her, to protect us from the eyes of the Denerim Market.”

“So then Kalli was the Vengeful Bride,” Leliana gasped.

“Yes,” Shianni nodded, “she was so angry at Duncan, she hated him so much.”

“What?!” Alistair shouted in shock.

“She blames him, you know?” Shianni replied, “for giving Nelaros that sword, for letting him go after her… and then when she was conscripted? She knew what it meant for us, for her to act as she did. She knew that the humans would be out for blood, and so she had planned to sacrifice herself, so that the humans wouldn’t attack the rest of us, so that they’d see her as the only problem, the only threat, and so they’d only punish her.”

Ahh… So this is why she thinks that she could only bring people suffering and pain… This is why she tried to push people away. It’s because she could only see herself as a failure, she felt like she failed her fiance, her cousin, and her community…

He made his decision, strengthened his resolve.

“I… didn’t know that…” Alistair said in shock and then covered his face with his hands, “but she’s always been… I’ve talked to her about Duncan so many times! She’s never said anything about hating him!”

“She wouldn’t,” Soris replied, “she wouldn’t because you respected him, and she didn’t want to drag your memory of him through the dirt.”

“My daughter is so much like her mother in that way,” Cyrion sighed entering the room, “she’s asleep now.”

“What was her mother like?” he found himself asking.

“They’re both people of… extremes,” Cyrion chuckled, “is probably the best way to put it.”

“Kalli’s either extremely good at something, or extremely bad at something,” Soris replied wryly, “it’s like she’s never been capable of ‘sort of’; her personality’s like that too. She’s extremely kind, compassionate, intelligent, strong, loving… that kind of thing right?”

“Kalli’s also extremely weak though,” Shianni added, “she’s just good at pretending to be strong, the only way to get her to let up is to tell her it’s okay to be weak.”

“And that was what you did earlier, yes?” he asked.

“Yes,” Cyrion nodded, “she’s always been a bit of a cry baby.”

“A cry bab— her?! A cry baby?!” Alistair asked in shock.

“Oh yes,” Shianni laughed, “she’s always super moved by her emotions, she cries for everything.”

“I feel like everything I knew about Kallian was a lie,” Alistair replied flatly.

“No, no,” Cyrion replied, “Kallian just has… a lot of sides to her. You only saw the sides of her she let you see, and that was probably done unconsciously, to protect herself.”

“She probably needed it too,” Soris frowned, “after the wedding and everything.”

“Wait, why was she never allowed to practice things?” Wynne asked.

“Ohhhh, that,” Soris replied, “well, like I said, she’s either extremely good at something or extremely bad at something. Whenever she tried to practice it she kind of… spirals out of control.”

“She tries to figure out why she can’t do it,” Shianni laughed, “and then she tries to reason it out. ‘Why can’t I do this?’, ‘Okay, think, what about this don’t I understand?’, ‘I can’t comprehend what I can’t comprehend.’, ‘why can’t I comprehend this?, ‘what’s wrong with me?’”

“Yeah,” Soris replied, “like that. I swear one night I found her mumbling to herself in confusion staring at a bow and a quiver of arrows.”

“So, we told her not to practice things,” Cyrion sighed, “for her own good.”

“That… makes a lot of sense,” Alistair replied thoughtfully.

“This… is certainly a lot to take in,” he sighed in thought, “wait, you said something about letters?”

“Oh! Yeah,” Shianni said before leaving to rummage through some drawers.

“We found the letters she’d sent Nelaros in his belongings,” Soris explained.

“Here, you can read them as payback for her not telling you anything,” Shianni said handing them the letters.

The feelings between the two were clear as day. 

Could he really compete with someone like this? 

Could he really have as much of an impact on her as Nelaros? 

This whole ‘love’ thing was completely new and confusing to him. How does one even proceed from here? Ah, he’ll figure something out. Better to tell her and get shot down instead of being… wherever this was.

“She really was just an ordinary girl from the alienage,” Wynne mused.

“Before I forget,” Cyrion said seriously, “what have you been feeding her?! She’s all skin and bones!”

“She’s the one who does most of the cooking,” Oghren belched.

“Why am I not surprised…” Shianni sighed in exasperation.

“Kalli’s really efficient, isn’t she?” Soris added wryly.

“Extraordinarily so,” Sten nodded.

“Are you guys talking shit about me?” Kallian grumbled emerging from her room.

“Of course we are,” Shianni grinned mischievously, “we’re telling them all your weaknesses, and your secrets!”

“Oh good,” Kallian sighed, “so I don’t have to tell them the story about how I was almost happily married?”

“Yep,” Shianni nodded, “we took care of it.”

“Thanks,” Kallian replied, “well, I’m going to go check on the orphanage then.”

“WAIT!” Cyrion, Shianni, and Soris yelled in unison.

“You should stay, have a meal,” Cyrion said, “you’re all skin and bones.”

“Yeah! And Uncle Cyrion had something to give you, isn’t that right, Uncle?” Shianni said quickly.

“That’s right,” Cyrion replied, “Soris help me pull up some of the floorboards after supper.”

“…Suspicious,” Kallian narrowed her eyes, “but alright.”

“You,” Shianni hissed suddenly and dragged him around a corner while Kallian and her father started to set about cooking supper.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I do not think this will work out,” he replied smoothly.

“That’s fine with me, I’m not into men,” Shianni replied, “you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” he asked raising a brow.

“Because I can see the way you look at her,” Shianni laughed, “she looks at you the same way.”

This was news to him. Good news, he hoped. He was still confused, however, and trying to sort himself out.

It wasn’t working very well.

“Look out for her alright?” Shianni sighed, “she’ll find her way into the orphanage sooner or later… and it’s… bad… So I need you to keep her from killing herself. Kalli’s love makes her super strong, but it also makes her super weak.”

Most of them had decided to return to Arl Eamon’s estate for the night, but a both him and Leliana had elected to stay behind to watch Kallian carefully. Alistair would return in the morning to help them sort through the slavers things and find out… something.

When Alistair returned the next morning, he’d brought along a mostly blind templar with a request: maleficarum in the alienage.

He felt bad for the maleficarum.

After talking to a confused beggar, Kallian all but bolted to the orphanage. They barely held her back while Leliana quickly went to tell the templar what happened.

The orphanage… All dead.

The sight that greeted them after they entered… brought Kallian to her knees.

“My fault…” Kallian mumbled, “this is all my fault… this… is all my fault…”

“Kalli,” Leliana said soothingly, “we need you to be strong right now, okay?”

“But don’t you see?” Kallian replied, “this… this is my fault!”

“There will be time for tears later,” Alistair said comfortingly, “but right now we need to figure out what happened.”

“Yeah… you’re right,” Kallian replied in a daze.

The sight was heart-wrenching. He understood Shianni’s request in full now: Kallian did look about ready to kill herself.

“That child…” Kallian said in a mournful daze, “that… that’s Daegan… he must’ve come into his power as a mage when the orphanage was hit…”

“That would certainly explain a lot,” Ser Otto nodded.

Every step they took further into the building… Kallian began looking more and more fragile. Like glass on the brink of shattering.

“We need to watch her carefully,” Alistair whispered, “I’m worried.”

“All of us are,” Leliana frowned.

“We should take extra care to not let her out of our sights,” he nodded.

Except, no matter how careful they’d watched her… She still managed to completely vanish.

“Where’s Kalli?” Alistair asked with worry.

“Quick! She must’ve left!” Leliana replied, “there might be someone who saw her!”

He was already gone.

“Kalli!” the confused beggar from earlier said grabbing his attention, “you need to go after her!”

“Do you know where she is?” he asked her quickly.

“She went into Valendrian’s house,” the beggar replied, “you should go there quickly! It’s this one!”

***

They watched Zevran slam a door open so hard that it shut itself after wards.

“I think we should probably let him handle this,” she stated, “he might be the only one who can help her.”

“I agree,” Alistair sighed, “let’s go see if that slaver left some kind of evidence tying him to Loghain, or Howe, or whoever.”

“That is a wonderful idea,” she nodded.

***

He barely managed to wrench the knife out of her hands in time.

“Why are you stopping me?!” Kallian glared at him, “stop stopping me!”

“Kallian!” he sighed heavily, both her wrists in his hands keeping her in place, “I… I know this isn’t easy for you. I know you think you only bring people suffering and pain. But that is not true.”

“What do you know?!” Kallian shot back, struggling against him, “don’t you see?! All of this was my fault!”

“It’s not!” he replied, “they would have stormed the alienage regardless. Surely, you know this. Surely you know that you’ve brought us far more than suffering and pain.”

“No,” Kallian whimpered, “it’s all I’m capable of doing. Hurting the people I care about. I’ll hurt you too, you know?”

“I feel the same way,” he replied staring down at her, “… hold on, give me a moment to try and figure out how to say this."

“…Considering you have me pinned to the floor,” Kallian stated lamely, “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

“An assassin… must learn to forget about sentiment,” he sighed, “it is dangerous, you take your pleasures where you can, when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless. I thought it was the same between us. Something to enjoy, a pleasant diversion, and little more.”

“In Alistair’s words,” Kallian replied, “all we do is flirt. We’ve done nothing further than that.”

“Hush, I am not finished speaking,” he sighed in frustration, “I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love, and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill. Everything I have been taught says what I feel is wrong. Yet, I cannot help it… Ever since we met I have been nothing but confused. Do you understand me at all?”

“Are… are you trying to tell me you’re in love with me in a super roundabout way?” Kallian frowned.

“Kallian,” he said forcing her to look him in the eyes, “I want you to answer this truthfully: how do you feel about me?”

He held his breath as he watched tears start to stream from her eyes. She really was a bit of a cry baby.

“…ve you,” Kallian cried, “I love you too… But I can’t! I shouldn’t! You—”

He cut her off, swallowing her words, her protests, her attempts to deny everything.

“All I need to know is if there might be some future for us, some possibility of… I do not know what,” he replied after breaking the kiss.

“All I’ll do is hurt you, you know,” Kallian replied softly, “is… is it alright for me to love you too?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied before kissing her again, he felt her tentatively wrap her arms around him, as if she were just as scared as he was, and he felt his heart soar.

Their next few hours were spent in a blur, losing themselves in each other. Finally, she was finally his.

“Zevran,” Kallian murmured after he’d decided to take it upon himself to pierce her ear, “there’s something I need you to know…”

“What is it, mi amor?” he hummed in response.

“The archdemon…” Kallian said softly, “a Grey Warden needs to strike the final blow…”

“And?” he asked.

“After wards… That Grey Warden… they die,” Kallian admitted.

And he felt his world go cold. Is this how she felt on the day of her wedding? Happiness and despair in the span of a few hours?

“Alistair—” he began.

“Will be king,” Kallian replied softly, “and he has Elissa.”

“You don’t understand,” he shot back, “all I have is you.”

“This is why I didn’t…” Kallian struggled, “why I didn’t want you to know. I… I never intended to survive the Blight. Even before I knew that. I killed Vaughan, I failed Nola, I failed Nelaros, I failed Shianni. I deserve nothing more than a traitor’s death. I’d always intended to face the consequences of my actions.”

“…That’s why…” he began to realize all of her actions, everything she’d done for them… it was because she was preparing them for a life without her.

“Why I pushed for Alistair to learn how to be a leader, why I wanted to settle Wynne’s regrets, why I wanted Leliana to accept everything about herself, why I didn’t give up in helping Sten find his sword, why I helped Oghren with Felsi, why I helped Shale rediscover herself,” Kallian replied, “why I needed to make sure that Morrigan was safe.”

Morrigan.

Morrigan knew. 

Morrigan had a way to save her.

Morrigan had always intended to save her, but with how Kallian was, Kallian didn’t have a reason to continue to live.

“Answer me this: if you had the chance,” he said slowly, “would you give me your future?”

“If… if I could,” Kallian replied mournfully, “I would…”

Now, Kallian had a reason to live.

Morrigan was right: it was love that would save Kallian.

“I… will figure something out,” he said, “I will not let you do this.”


	44. Landsmeet

“Alistair,” Kallian hummed, “there was something I wanted to tell you: Riordan gave me directions to the Grey Warden’s warehouse. Wanna come with?”

“Oh! Uh, sure!” he replied in a panic.

“You alright there?” Kallian asked raising her brow.

“Yes,” he nodded firmly, “don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so?” Kallian replied uncertainly.

He’d need to talk to her about her feelings on Duncan… He needed to apologize to her. He needed to tell her… something.

“Hey,” Kallian said suddenly, “I think this was Duncan’s.”

“This… this is,” he replied in awe, “that’s his crest…”

“I thought you might want it,” Kallian nodded.

“Thank you,” he replied, “truly, I had no idea his shield wasn’t with him. This is perfect… I don’t know how else to express my gratitude… this means a great deal to me. I can’t believe you remembered it at all…”

“Of course I remembered,” Kallian chuckled, “he was like a surrogate father to you, wasn’t he?”

“Yes… well,” he sighed, “Shianni told me— told us— about how you felt about Duncan.”

“Oh…” Kallian replied looking like she’d just been slapped across the face, “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“No, no,” he sighed, “it’s… you had every right to be mad at him, to hate him. I’m the one who should be sorry… You comforted me and helped me through that even though you never liked him.”

“I may have not liked him,” Kallian frowned, “but he clearly meant a great deal to you. I didn’t want to ruin that for you…”

“I know, Soris said as much,” he sighed heavily, “I just… I wanted to apologize is all.”

“I’ll accept your apology only if you’ll accept mine in return,” Kallian grinned.

“Deal,” he smiled back.

***

“Zevran,” Kallian called, “I want you to have this.”

“A ring?” he furrowed his brows, “isn’t this…”

“No, it’s not,” Kallian laughed, “why would I give you something another man made and gave me for my wedding? This was my mother’s.”

“Are you sure you want to give this to me?” he asked.

“To remember me by,” Kallian replied, “or something. But there is somewhere I wanted to bring you.”

Curious, he followed her.

He’d kept what Morrigan had confided in him for a secret. He didn’t know the details, all the woman had said was that there was indeed a way to save her.

Everyone seemed rather fond of keeping secrets.

“Where are you bringing me?” he asked.

“Here,” Kallian replied at a graveyard, “I want you to help me bury this.”

“The ring that Nelaros gave you?” he furrowed his brows, “why?”

“So that I can put my feelings for him to rest,” Kallian replied, “I need to move on too. I’m sure he’d rather I do that than wallow in my misery.”

“I’m still not going to let you sacrifice yourself,” he huffed, “I hope you understand this.”

“Well, you can certainly try,” Kallian laughed, “though since Riordan’s here now… Maybe?”

“Definitely,” he replied firmly.

***

“The Blight is the true threat,” he stated calmly after Loghain had finished berating them, “not Orlais.”

“There are enough refugees in my bannorn now to make that abundantly clear,” Alfstanna announced.

“The south has fallen, Loghain!” Wulff spoke up, “will you let the darkspawn take the whole of the country for fear of Orlais?”

“The Blight is indeed real,” Loghain declared, “but do we need Grey Wardens to fight it? They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers. And once we open our borders to the Chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return from whence they came?”

“You are the one who allowed Rendon Howe to imprison and torture innocents,” he replied still keeping his voice even. 

If he were to win this he had to be seen as competent, as someone who could stand up for himself without letting his emotions run away with him.

“Alistair speaks truly! My son was taken under the cover of night,” Sighard added, “the things done to him… some of them are beyond any healer’s skill.”

“Howe was responsible for himself,” Loghain shot back before addressing Kallian, “he will answer to the Maker for any wrongs committed in this life. As must we all. But you know that, you murdered him. Whatever Howe may have done, he should have been brought before the seneschal. There is no justice butchering a man in his home.”

Kallian stayed silent, this was his debate to complete. His true test. And he would not disappoint her.

“Like there was justice in butchering my family in our home?” Elissa spoke up, “in murdering my nephew and my sister-in-law in their own beds? In murdering my parents because of his power hungry jealousy? The only reason I survived was because our servants barely managed to smuggle me out in time. Everyone else died.”

“Not only that,” he added, “but you sent a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon, did you not?”

“I assure you, Alistair, if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers,” Loghain replied, “I would not trust to the discretion of an apostate.”

“Indeed?” Alfstanna replied, “my brother tells a very different tale. He says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry’s justice. Coincidence?”

“Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain,” the revered mother announced, “interference in a templar’s sacred duties is an offense against the Maker.”

“Whatever I have done, I will answer for later,” Loghain replied, “at the moment, however, I wish to know what these Wardens have done with my daughter.”

“Protected her from you,” he replied, “she came to us for protection against Howe.”

“You took my daughter— our queen— by force, killing her guards in the process,” Loghain replied angrily, “what arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?”

Kallian still kept her silence as Loghain glared at her, this was his battle.

“I believe I can speak for myself,” Anora announced, “Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me. These Wardens have slandered and defamed Ferelden’s greatest hero in a bid to put an impostor on Maric’s throne.”

Ah, Anora had seen through them.

“What?!” Kallian gasped in shock, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, even so, however, I am. It pains me that this has come to this.”

Wait… Did Kallian do this on purpose? Well, Kallian was rather crafty and clever. And she did say that she hated underhanded methods, so chances were that she had indeed planned this.

Honestly, it was kind of amazing, it was like she was born for this.

He really should make Kallian his right hand man… woman… whatever.

And judging by the earring, he figured that both she and Zevran were a package deal.

Having an assassin around might be handy in the days to come, especially if Kallian was going to be busy being the pristine example of everything good in the world.

“It has become clear to me, Alistair, that the true threat to this nation is you,” Anora replied, “I offered you the chance to ally with me for the good of this nation, and you refused it. I will not allow you to destroy the throne Cailan and I have held.”

“Who here can say that Anora is not fit to rule this land?” Loghain yelled, “and who can say that this Alistair is? We know nothing of him save that he may have royal blood. For five years, Anora has been queen, and proven herself worthy of the Theirin name. She can lead our people through this crisis, and I can lead her armies. My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It’s been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting. We Fereldens have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me and we shall defeat the Blight itself.”

***

She watched Alistair with pride.

He was ready to be a king. He kept calm, and articulate, never stumbling over his words, yet still loud enough to be heard. A stark contrast to Loghain’s paranoid shouts.

She watched as he won the Landsmeet with a rousing success, as the banns spoke against Loghain. Only one bann sided against them, but you can’t win them all.

“The Landsmeet is against you, Loghain,” Alistair said calmly, “step down gracefully.”

“Traitors! Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?” Loghain shouted angrily, “and do you really think I’ll believe that Alistair can accomplish all of this on his own? It’s clear who pulls the strings!”

“You underestimated him,” she replied, “just as you underestimated Cailan.”

“You fought with us once, Eamon,” Loghain ranted, “you once cared about this land. Before you got too old and fat and content to even see what you risk! None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!”

“Call off your men,” Alistair replied, “and we’ll settle this honorably.”

“This is it, Loghain,” she added, “surely you can see you’ve lost?”

“Then let us end this,” Loghain said turning to her, “I suppose we both knew it would come to this. When we first met at Ostagar, I would never have thought so. But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else.”

“I feel exactly the same way,” she replied with a nod.

“A man is made by the quality of his enemies,” Loghain sighed, “Maric told me that once. I wonder if it’s more a compliment to you, or me.”

“I’d say it’s a compliment to us both,” she replied with a wry grin.

“Enough,” Loghain announced, “let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel.”

“It shall be fought according to tradition: a test of arms in single combat until one party yields,” Alfstanna stated, “and we who are assembled will abide by the outcome.”

“Will you face me yourself, Alistair?” Loghain asked, “or have you a champion?”

“Kallian, will be my champion,” Alistair announced.

“It is you or me the men will follow,” Loghain replied looking to her, “so let us fight for it. Prepare yourself.”

“May the best fighter win,” she nodded to him.

She watched as Alistair, stepped up to take the throne, and announce his impending marriage to Elissa. As he ordered Loghain’s execution, and Anora’s imprisonment.

And barely held back a groan as she slapped her hand to her forehead as he fumbled the ending.

He was doing so well too.

“We’d better get going,” Alistair said turning to address her, “Ferelden is depending on us.”

“As you wish, my king,” she grinned.

“Yes, well, I have words to say to you about this later,” Alistair frowned deciding to wait until they were alone.

***

“This wasn’t how I expected my proposal to you to go,” he sighed.

“This wasn’t how I was expecting it to go either,” Elissa teased, “at least we were warned.”

“Kallian,” he frowned, “you made me king. After all this is over with, they’re actually going to put us on the throne. I’m still… going to be king.”

“…Congratulations on your impending wedding and becoming future king…?” Kallian replied.

“Cute. I suppose I would have been mad about this before,” he sighed, “but since our talk after seeing my sister… well, perhaps this isn’t so bad.”

“Plus you were my protege,” Kallian added.

“You were a ridiculously good teacher,” he replied, “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you, you know that right? I always feared this possibility… but maybe there’s nothing to fear. I might actually make a good king, you never know.”

“Alistair,” Kallian chastised, “I’m hurt. You will make a good king, and Elissa will be there right beside you along the way.”

“I’ll tell you what, though,” he replied, “I’ll make a far better king if I have the right people by my side to help me once I’m on the throne. People like you.”

“You have Elissa,” Kallian replied gesturing to her, “and you’ll do fine without me.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he replied quickly, “I’m sure I can do well enough if I try. But I wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for you, so in a way: you owe me. What do you say?”

“That I’m a Grey Warden,” Kallian replied flatly, “and a criminal.”

“Yes, well,” Elissa cut in, “we’re pardoning you of all your crimes.”

“Also, if I can’t be a Grey Warden anymore, then neither can you,” he replied flatly, “I’m going to be king whether I like it or not, Grey Warden or no. And if I’m going to be an exception, then so are you. As a matter of fact: I insist.”

“Is that the order of the Crown?” Kallian asked wryly.

“Yes,” he replied, “yes it is. Though I hear Gwaren got hit hard by the Blight, Loghain didn’t do anything to protect it. I’ll just give you some land or something, make you a bann, or arl, I don’t know. But you can move your alienage there, they’ll probably flock to whatever title or land you hold, and we don’t want more riots.”

“Indeed,” Elissa nodded, “we’ll help everyone who wants to leave Denerim with you relocate, and build you an estate somewhere here once this is all over with. After that, we’ll renovate the alienage and make it more hospitable for the elves who elect to stay here.”

“You’ve clearly been discussing this,” Kallian replied flatly.

“Of course we have,” he replied, “how could I possibly leave my dearest honorary sister high and dry?”

“Well, if it’s the order of the crown, I can’t really decline it, now can I?” Kallian laughed.

“Right you are,” he replied, “anyway Arl Eamon returned to Redcliffe. He says the army has gathered there and is almost ready to march. Why don’t you go say your goodbyes to your family. The Blight awaits, right?”

“Yeah,” Kallian sighed, “seeing them again before all hell breaks loose would be nice.”


	45. Out Maneuvered

“Tell me,” Riordan asked, “has Duncan told you how to end the Blight? Why the Grey Wardens are necessary?”

“I had always wondered that,” Alistair replied.

“I know,” she sighed, “Grey Wardens are necessary because if anyone other than a Grey Warden deals the finishing blow the archdemon gets back up and continues on its merry way. Correct?”

“So Duncan did tell you?” Riordan replied with shock.

“Duncan did not in fact tell me,” she replied waving her hands around.

“Then how?” Riordan asked.

“The first time we went to Denerim,” she explained, “I realized I knew next to nothing about both the Grey Wardens and the Blight. Remember those books I burned? They were studies on the previous Blights. I put two and two together and figured it out.”

“You knew?!” Alistair asked in shock, “and you never told me?!”

“Of course not,” she replied, “I never intended to outlive the Blight. I’m a criminal, remember?”

“…Then all this time…” Alistair replied.

“I’ve been preparing everyone to continue on living without me,” she nodded.

“Everything you’ve done for us… everything…” Alistair said in a daze.

“Was because I had always planned to die,” she grinned wryly.

“Since… since the beginning…” Alistair stumbled, “you’ve… since the beginning.”

“Yes,” she replied softly, “it was my choice to make, so I made it.”

“As heartening as this is, the final blow will be mine to take. I am the eldest and the Blight will not spare me much longer. You two clearly have a lot to think on,” Riordan cut in, “you should return to your rooms and rest, tomorrow will be a busy day.”

***

Kallian was standing before her. Clearly conflicted. Good, Zevran had succeeded in giving her a reason to live.

“I’ll… tell him about it,” Kallian finally said, “but I promise nothing more.”

“That is fine with me,” she nodded, “I urge you to be convincing.”

“Right…” Kallian replied softly.

“Kallian,” she said halting her from leaving, “I will not lose you. I hope you know this. Even after this is done and over with… I cannot bare to lose you.”

“Well… in the end it’s not up to me,” Kallian replied with a sad smile, “I can’t force this on Alistair.”

“I do not care,” she replied firmly, “I refuse to allow you to die… Even if we never meet again after the archdemon falls… I refuse to allow you to die like this.”

“I still can’t force him to do this,” Kallian replied before leaving.

Kallian may not be able to force him to do this. But she would be.

“Zevran,” she called out after Kallian had left, “I know you’re here.”

“That I am,” Zevran sighed walking out of the shadows he’d cloaked himself in, “and I don’t plan on losing her either.”

“Good,” she replied firmly, “when she returns, I’ll need you to distract her then.”

“Now that, I can do,” Zevran replied cheerily.

***

Both he and Elissa stared at Kallian.

“Of cour—” Elissa started, but he cut her off.

“I’m not doing it,” he replied flatly.

“Didn’t think you would,” Kallian replied wryly, “well… I’d better go tell Morrigan the bad news.”

“What are you thinking?!” Elissa asked rounding on him.

“That she needs to be punished for withholding important information,” he replied flatly.

“So you’ll let her die?!” Elissa glowered.

“Of course not,” he laughed, “but it’ll be fun making her think she will.”

“You… are a terrible person,” Elissa replied flatly.

***

“Is she gone?” Alistair asked entering the room after Kallian had left.

“…But she said that you…” she stared at him in mild surprise, “I was just about to…”

“Let me guess: she said that I wouldn’t do it?” Alistair replied flatly, “and you’d come find me to guilt trip me into it?”

“Yes,” she replied slowly.

“Elissa would do that well enough, I think,” Alistair sighed, “and Zevran… I don’t really want to get assassinated on my first day as king. Would set a rather poor precedent, wouldn’t it?”

“…How uncharacteristically wise of you,” she replied.

“So let’s just… get this over with,” Alistair sighed heavily, “before I change my mind… Not that I actually would but still. You never know right?”

***

She certainly was a good actress, his warden.

Playing like she’d survive the Blight when she had no intentions of it.

Idly, he wondered what would be a good way to punish her for this.

Of course, he’ll have sex with her like it’s their last night alive, but that goes without saying, really.

So he waited for her in the room he had been given.

He would lose himself in her, and he would make her lose herself in him.

He was hers, just as she was his. And if he didn’t have a say in how her life ended… Well, he’d be rather put out.

***

They seemed to unanimously decide that Kalli’s punishment, would be to not tell her that she wouldn’t die even if she did land the finishing blow.

Even Morrigan was willing to keep up the charade, she had told her that even still, she wanted to see this to the end with her.

“Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde! Gaze upon them now, but do not fear them,” he declared gesturing Kallian to come up to stand with him, “the woman you see beside me is an elf, eighteen years old but raised to the ranks of the Grey Wardens! And never a more glorious Grey Warden has there been!”

“…my defining features are my race, my gender, and my age, huh?” he heard Kallian mumble with a smile.

“She has survived despite the odds, and without her, none of us would be here!” he continued, choosing to ignore her, “today, we save Denerim! Today, we avenge the death of my brother, King Cailan! But most of all, today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honor their sacrifice! For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!”

“For our homes, our families, and our friends!” Kallian shouted pumping her fist into the air, “let’s kick their asses and show ‘em whose boss!”

***

She saw the archdemon flying overhead. It would most likely be her death.

Something in her gut told her that Riordan would fail: and her gut had never been wrong before.

She braced herself and charged with the rest of them.

“You’ve managed to fight your way to the gates,” Riordan greeted them, “we’re doing better than I hoped.”

“Surprising, isn’t it?” Shale noted.

“That will change quickly,” Sten added.

“Bloody nug runners!” Oghren grumbled, “we’re outnumbered three to one!”

“It could be worse,” she replied, “it could be thirty to one, which is about where we were when we started.”

“What are we to do now, Riordan?” Wynne asked, “you have a plan, I assume?”

“The army will not last long,” Riordan replied, “so we’ll need to move quickly to reach the darkspawn. I suggest taking Alistair and no more than two others with you into the city. Anyone you don’t bring with you can remain here to prevent more darkspawn from entering Denerim on our tails.”

“How are we going to fight a flying dragon?” she asked, “I mean we killed one before… but this is different.”

“We’re going to need to reach a high point in the city,” Riordan explained, “I’m thinking the top of Fort Drakon might work.”

“The top of…?” Alistair asked, “you want to draw the dragon’s attention?”

“Fortune favors the bold, as they say,” she nodded.

“We have little choice,” Riordan replied, “though I warn you that as soon as we engage the beast it will call all its generals to help it. I can sense two generals in Denerim. You may wish to seek them out before going to Fort Drakon.”

“I’m sure that if we did slay those generals,” Leliana replied, “it would stop the darkspawn in the city from doing a lot of harm!”

“It may also waste resources trying to find them,” Riordan replied, “the decision is up to you.”

“We’ll go after the generals,” she replied, “it’ll help stem the tide when we get to the archdemon. Do you know where they are?”

“Neither of them are near Fort Drakon, currently,” Riordan replied, “but there are too many darkspawn here to tell you more. There are already several units of our allies within the city by now. They may be able to come to your assistance if you call them, but their strength will be limited.”

“Let me guess: you’re leaving me here, at the gates as a contingency plan,” Alistair sighed before she could say anything, “in case both you and Riordan die. Because there are only three Grey Wardens in Ferelden.”

“I hope you don’t expect Zevran and I to just sit back here,” Leliana hummed, “we are the Trio of Tricksters, remember?”

“And I refuse to stay here as well,” Morrigan replied, “I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”

“As will I!” Zevran added cheerily, “even if you tried to leave Leliana and I behind we’d hunt you down regardless!”

All she could do was stand there dumbly with her mouth open and her finger held up in the air. She covered her face with her hands.

“As you wish,” she sighed in resignation.

“You know,” Alistair hummed, “I could get used to outsmarting you. It’s rather fun.”

“I did too good a job teaching you, I see,” she sighed.

“Fair enough,” Riordan nodded, “anyone else will need to remain here and assist in keeping more darkspawn from coming in the gates behind us.”

“I’ll lead them,” Alistair volunteered, “of course I’d rather be going after the archdemon but all right.”

“Good,” Riordan nodded, “that should be sufficient. Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now. May the Maker watch over you.”

“Well I’ve done my best to prepare us,” she replied, “but may He watch over you as well.”

And with that, Riordan left.

“So this is it, then,” Wynne sighed, “all we’ve been through has led up to this. Whatever happens now… to either of us, know that I am proud— infinitely proud— to have called you friend.”

“I feel the same,” she smiled, “thank you for everything Wynne.”

“Thank you, for finding Aneirin for me, for everything you’ve done for me,” Wynne nodded, “farewell, and may the Maker watch over you,”

“So this is it, Kallian,” Oghren sighed.

Apparently they were all rotating in to say their last good byes.

“It has been an honor to fight with you, Oghren,” she replied.

“Honor?” Oghren snorted, “nobody’s looked at me and seen honor in a long time, Kallian. You took in a drunken disgrace of an Orzammar warrior. You gave me a reason to fight and the will to keep going. You helped me find the one woman in the sodding world who might put up with me. You helped me get past Branka so I could have someone new... I owe you a lot, Kallian, I consider it a fine honor to die for you and your cause.”

“The honor is mine, my friend,” she grinned.

“Then it’s sodding honor for everyone,” Oghren laughed, “that’s war for you. Let the stone turn red from the blood of heroes… Today I will be the warrior you taught me to be.”

“Nonsense,” she replied wryly, “I just reminded you of the warrior you always were.”

“Hah!” Oghren laughed.

“So the archdemon is next, is it?” Shale said taking Oghren’s place, “part of me is glad that it has decided to leave me here at the gate, but the other part is… apprehensive? I would almost say that I feel concern for something other than myself, even maybe for a soft, squishy companion… but that would be silly, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m worried about you too Shale,” she grinned.

“About me?” Shale scoffed, “I’m not the one going up against a giant dragon with little more than wishful thinking. And… do try not to get swallowed whole. If the beast were to fly about afterwards and poop it out, irony would dictate that it would land on me. I couldn’t take it.”

“I’ll do my best,” she laughed.

“Well, then,” Shale sighed, “I suppose this is it? Have fun storming the castle… Again.”

“Are you ready?” Sten asked, “we have reached the battlefield at last.”

“That we have,” she nodded, “thank you for all your help, Sten.”

“I have done nothing,” Sten replied, “you have carried us this far. Do not doubt that.”

“So, this is it… this is the end,” Leliana sighed, “we’ve come so far… it’s strange knowing that all our fates will be decided in a matter of hours… We stand on the precipice, before the greatest battle of our age… I wonder if the heroes of old ever felt like this.”

“It’s very likely,” she replied.

“I am not afraid,” Leliana smiled, “we go to fight for a good cause, and there is nowhere else I would rather be. You are a dear, dear friend… And I will stand beside you to whatever end. This day, we will forge a legend of our own… And do be careful, we can’t be the Trio of Tricksters if there aren’t three of us.”

“So, we head into the city together,” Morrigan noted, “as it should be.”

“It’s been an honor to have you by my side on this journey,” she grinned, “allow me to thank you now… for everything you’ve done for me.”

“You… are most welcome,” Morrigan replied struggling, “allow me to say only one thing before we go: I knew nothing of friendship before we met… and I will always consider you such… No matter what comes.”

“I feel exactly the same,” she replied, “I… I’ll always be watching out for you. No matter what. I’ll give you a little divine protection against Flemeth.”

“If you insist,” Morrigan laughed, “now let us see this finally done. The archdemon awaits.”

“I’m still upset,” Alistair grumbled, “that I’m being left behind.”

“You’re going to be king,” she replied wryly, “you belong out here with your men. Plus you said it yourself right? Contingency plan.”

“I’ll do my best out here,” Alistair sighed, “be careful in there, will you? You said you’d help me be king, and I’m not letting you off if you go dying or something.”

“The archdemon doesn’t stand a chance,” she replied brightly, “and I promise, if possible, I’ll let Riordan handle the finishing blow.”

“Just remember,” Alistair frowned, “I will hurt you if you die. Now go kick its ass.”

“I will also find a blood mage, and bring you back, just so I can kill you all over again,” Elissa nodded, “you’re not escaping your duties that easily.”

“If you say so,” she replied wryly, “it does sound rather unpleasant to die twice over.”

“So we head into the city to face the archdemon together, do we?” Zevran grinned, “just as it should be.”

“I don’t believe you gave me much of a choice in the matter,” she replied wryly.

“If this should be the last we speak, I want you to know… assassinating you was the luckiest thing that could have ever happened to me,” Zevran said wrapping his arms around her.

“Will you still say that when we reach the archdemon?” she laughed returning his embrace.

“I would say it at the gates of the Dark City itself,” Zevran replied stealing a lingering kiss.

She faced the city apprehensively. This would most likely be her last day alive… 

She took a deep breath and led the way inside.

***

Kallian, was certainly a stronger fighter when she had something to protect.

He understood that now, her love made her strong, made her seem invincible. No matter what she’d push herself forward to her dying breath.

Idly he wondered how terrifying a mother she would make. If people threatened their children… It was a little surprising that such thoughts seemed to come to him easily.

Kallian viciously fought to protect the Alienage, her home, and her family. He had his doubts, but Shianni’s accuracy and abilities with a bow were rather impressive.

***

“How do you think they’re faring inside the city?” Oghren asked.

“It’s Kallian,” he replied wryly, “I’m still of the opinion that she could’ve ended the Blight all by herself…”

“Strangely,” Sten nodded, “I’m beginning to believe that as well.”

“She is rather formidable, isn’t she?” Wynne sighed.

“It’s Kallian,” he reiterated, “she’s practically invincible.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Elissa sighed, “I see you’ve still elected not to tell her.”

“It’ll be a riot,” he grinned, “trust me.”

“…That poor woman,” Elissa sighed.

“Beware!” a knight shouted, “a large group of darkspawn have broken away from the battle! They’ll be here any minute!”

“Well, let’s hold them off to give them a fighting chance,” he replied.

***

She watched helplessly as Riordan wounded the archdemon, and then fall to his death.

This was how she was going to die after all.

“Hey,” she said speaking up, “I want you guys to know… that… I really treasured our time together.”

And refusing to hear anything they had to say, anything that would weaken her resolve, she charged forwards.

They fought their way through Fort Drakon, carving their path through the darkspawn.

***

“Zevran,” Kallian said pulling him aside before moving to face the archdemon, “I want you to know something: you saved me, you know that?”

“I believe that you saved me, mi amor,” he replied.

“You saved me from myself,” Kallian replied hugging him in an embrace before giving him a lingering kiss, “never forget that.”

With apprehension filling his entire being, he watched his heart charge off to what could be her doom.

“Morrigan,” he said lowly, “if this fails, I hope you understand that I will hunt you down and kill you.”

“Well,” Morrigan sighed, “I would kill myself if it does, truth be told. She may be unconscious for a few days, but she will live. I can assure you of that.”

“She had better,” he replied.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget this moment,” Leliana murmured in awe as Kallian was swallowed up by a bright light, “no matter what.”

***

Two days. It had been two days since they’d hauled her unconscious body off the top of Fort Drakon after the defeat of the archdemon.

He’d invited her friends and family to stay at the royal palace until she woke up and recovered her strength.

And now they were all waiting apprehensively for her to wake up. Zevran refusing to leave her side.

Before she disappeared, Morrigan assured had him that she would indeed survive, and that she might be unconscious for a few days.

He’s been struggling on deciding what to tell the Orlesian Grey Wardens about how she survived.

She really needed to wake up soon and give him advice on this.

After she got over being angry with him, of course.

***

He stirred when he felt someone gently prodding his cheek.

He quickly looked up, and there she was. Awake.

And delightfully confused.

“I don’t… I don’t understand…” Kallian said in shock, “why am I awake? What… what happened?”

A servant quickly ran out of the room to inform the King of the good news.

“I don’t understand,” Kallian repeated before giving herself a sharp slap across the face.

“Does it truly matter?” he grinned moving to hold her close to him.

“Of course it does!” Kallian shot back, “I was… am I really that bad at sacrificing myself?”

“It would seem that, that would indeed be the case, yes,” he replied cheerily before capturing her in a kiss.

“Kalli!” Shianni screamed tackling Kallian back into the bed effectively stealing her away from him, “we were so worried! You need to stop doing things like this! We thought you were dead for sure!”

“Oh, my little girl,” Cyrion held her close as tears streamed down his face, “you’re alive… thank the Maker, you’re alive!”

“Kalli, you really need to stop letting us think you’re dead,” Soris sighed.

“So, here’s the thing,” Alistair said entering the room, “I’d never really planned on letting you die, I hope you know that.”

Kallian stared at him in shock, before a stream of tears began to run down her face.

“Why would you do that to me?” Kallian sniffled, “that’s so mean!”

“I think it was rather fitting punishment for withholding important information,” Alistair replied flatly.

“So you didn’t tell me?!” Kallian frowned, “that’s so mean!”

“I told him you’d be angry,” Elissa sighed.

“Right, so I need you lot to clear out for a bit,” Alistair sighed addressing her family, “I need to talk to her about some Grey Warden business.”

“If we must,” Shianni rolled her eyes as the three of them were shooed out.

“I need your advice on something,” Alistair announced.

“…On what?” Kallian asked trying to stop her tears.

“Maker’s breath you really are a bit of a cry baby,” Alistair sighed, “anyway: what should I tell the Orlesian Wardens? They’re asking how you survived.”

“Why didn’t you just tell them Riordan did it?” Kallian groaned in frustration, “also calling someone a cry baby when you’re asking for their advice is rather poor form, you know.”

“Why couldn’t you have woken up sooner?” Alistair sighed heavily.

“Because I wasn’t expecting to wake up at all!” Kallian shot back.

“Hurry up in there!” Shianni yelled loudly from the next room, “she’s OUR family! You can’t hog her like this!”

“As nice as this moment is,” he cleared his throat, “I would like some time with her, alone.”

“Zevran insists that he be allowed to spend some alone time with her,” Elissa replied dragging Alistair out of the room and closing the door, “so take that as you will.”

“So, my dear, what shall we do next?” he grinned pushing her so that she lay trapped in his arms.

“It looks like you’ve already got plans for it,” Kallian replied flatly.

“Well, for our immediate future, yes,” he hummed, “but I was thinking more along the lines of after I have my way with you.”

“Children,” Kallian said after some thought, “I want children.”

“Oh?” he replied happily, “is that so?”

“Grey Wardens have a hard time with pregnancy though,” Kallian replied, “but it’s not impossible. Zev, I want your kids. Give me your kids.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he chuckled, “of course I’m thinking that we should probably get married first, I think your father would kill me if we had children out of wedlock.”

“That sounds nice,” Kallian hummed happily before pulling him down into a kiss.


	46. The Years that Followed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! Thank you everyone who elected to stay with Kalli on her wild ride through the Fifth Blight!

Much to his dismay and Kallian’s expectations: when he recounted the tale of how they’d met, Cyrion and Soris did not approve, while Shianni ended up laughing so hard she pulled a muscle, calling him an idiot for trying to kill her.

It might also be worth noting that Leliana had somehow ended up in a relationship with Shianni.

Somehow, to both their delights, they’d ended up with three children. Their eldest daughter, Morgan, after the woman who saved her life, and fraternal twins Camilla and Carmelo.

Alistair’s brat, Bryce, was getting closer to Morgan than he liked, however.

He supposed he should prepare himself for the day when they became in-laws. Something Kallian, of course didn’t mind, since it’d solidify her sibling relationship with Alistair, making their situation come full circle: the Trio of Tricksters had already more or less become in-laws.

Though he supposed that Alistair was right in his beliefs that Kallian could end the Blight on her own.

Alistair and Kallian continued to be little shits to each other behind closed doors, however.

Kallian declined the position of Warden Commander of Ferelden, citing that she was too busy helping the country through an economic recession.

Gwaren hadn’t been hit as hard as they’d thought, so they were given the teyrn and an estate in Denerim. Somehow, she’d managed to increase the amount of trade exports from Gwaren, using the skills alienage elves had honed to near perfection to help improve Ferelden’s trade relations with the rest of Thedas. 

Honestly, his wife truly was amazing, he helped train their guards so that they could pick out and eliminate every threat that befell them, threatening them that if their children got so much as a scratch, he’d kill all of them. They’d become known as the power couple who disgusted everyone around them and who made their teeth ache.

True to Ignacio’s word, the Crows never sent them their regards, especially considering that killing the Hero of Ferelden was considered impolitic, and also more dangerous than most coffers would allow.

He also learned that healing people was just killing them in reverse; his wife’s words, of course.

Eight years after the Blight, when the twins turned five years old, they’d started discussing in full about finding a cure for the Calling, with Alistair and Elissa’s blessings. Together, they, along with Cyrion, Shianni, and Leliana created a cipher that would allow them to send messages to each other as the lot of them traveled to find clues on how to do it: Leliana using her new role as the Left Hand of the Divine, and them deciding to stage a massive take-over of the Antivan Crows, since taking control of the guild would put them in a better position of acquiring more information. Once their preparations had been set, Cyrion had been named their regent, and took over caring for their children. Though, everyone else helped out a lot too. Oghren had to be coached through fatherhood, but once he set his mind to it, he managed just fine.

It was still weird that he’d named his daughter after Kallian, however.

When the Calling started to go crazy in both Ferelden and Orlais, Leliana kept their locations secret so that the Wardens wouldn’t be able to call Kallian back, and so that they could continue their search unhindered. Though, a few years after Leliana had become Divine Victoria, they were approached by an elf named Solas, who in return for their aid in both helping and hiding him, found a cure for the Blight sickness that ran rampant within the Grey Wardens. 

However, for some reason, he didn’t want to share this secret with anyone other than Alistair and Kallian, for now, anyway. Kallian did, however, feel pretty crappy about hiding Solas from Leliana. Especially after what the man pulled a year after Corypheus’ defeat.

Ah, but well, at least they’d be left alone to raise their children in peace. While he attempted to keep his daughter away from Bryce. Though his efforts were being thwarted by Kallian, who told him that if he didn’t want to be hated, he’d just allow it to happen. He still didn’t approve, but Morgan was a lot like her mother in that, they were both people of extremes, and could not be easily deterred from things they’d set their minds to.

It’ll also be worth noting that while Morrigan was helping Inquisitor Lavellan in Skyhold, Kallian and Elissa had decided to shower the woman with gifts for both her and her son. Kallian’s relationship with her still going strong even after all their years apart.

Secretly, he had also showered them both with gifts, they were, after all the reason his wife was still alive, as well as the reason for their children's existence.

And now eleven years after the Blight, they were visiting Antiva, their children’s first trip to the place.

“So, this is the place Daddy grew up,” Morgan noted looking around, bringing him out of his thoughts, “it really is green.”

“Yes!” he replied cheerily, “not cold and harsh like Ferelden, no?”

“I guess,” Camilla replied, “but Orlais was nice too.”

“Yes, well,” he sighed, “we can’t all be from Orlais.”

“We should visit Aunt Leli and Aunt Shianni on our way back to Ferelden,” Carmelo added, “though Mama should do the cooking while we’re there. I can’t believe they can make food that taste like emotions.”

“Right?” Kallian laughed, “I didn’t know ham could taste like despair, either.”

“Yes, well,” he replied giving her a kiss on the cheek, “not all of us have the privilege of having an excellent cook.”

“Blech,” their children cried in unison, “dad, why, we’re in public.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t used to it by now,” Kallian replied wryly.

“We are, but that doesn’t mean we have to enjoy it,” Morgan replied flatly, she was so much like her mother.

“Yeah,” Camilla nodded, “you’ve been together for how long? And you’re still sickeningly lovey dovey everyday.”

“Eleven years,” Kallian supplied.

“You’ll understand when you find yourselves your own significant others,” he grinned.

“If we’ll turn into you two,” Carmelo replied flatly, “then I’m not sure I want to.”

“What are you talking about?” he replied, “love is the best! Love has the power to save people! It did after all save your mother.”

“It’s true,” Kallian sighed, “it did. In more ways than one.”

“But I, ah, wouldn’t recommend you attempting to assassinate your love interest, however,” he warned.

“Why not?” Camilla replied, “it worked for you two didn’t it?”

“And now you’re lovey dovey everyday,” Morgan added.

“Attempting to assassinate the Crown Prince of Ferelden doesn’t seem like a good idea,” Carmelo pointed out flatly.

“Assassinating the— What?!” Morgan flushed a deep shade of red, “no way!”

“I still have feelings on this,” he replied flatly, “and they’re not good ones.”

“Men really are idiots when it comes to women,” Kallian mumbled.

“Hush now, my dear,” he grinned embracing her, “you love me.”

“Unfortunately,” Kallian replied.

“Uggggggh!” their children cried out in unison again, “Mom! Dad! Stop!”

It was rather strange how life turned out for them. If someone had told him he’d be happily married to a failed target, with three children while Rinna was still alive, he’d probably laugh at them before killing them, on principle, of course.

Grey Wardens truly were the epitome of charm and hospitality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May Alistair and Kallian continue to be absolute little shits to each other for the rest of their lives.
> 
> And may Kallian and Zevran continue to be disgusting together for the rest of their lives, as well.
> 
> Also, Lavellan married Cullen. If anyone was wondering.
> 
> I also imagine Hawke making Fenris squat in her estate while she was away, so that Orana could keep her job.
> 
> One of the reasons I don't see the Crows picking a fight with Zev is because attacking Zev equates to antagonizing Kalli, and to antagonize Kalli they'd be picking a fight with Ferelden and the Left Hand of the Divine


End file.
